Sinful Delights
by asianktn
Summary: Syaoran is a music empire elite, and takes a chance on Fallen Angels, scouted from one of the sleaziest bars in Tokyo. Will this player also take a chance on love with the lyricist Sakura? Or will she be another victim of his charms? Smutty
1. The Twilight Den

**In this fic, Sakura is an orphan. Touya makes an appearance, but he is not her brother. Tomoyo and Meilin are her only adopted family, bonded by a harsh life on the streets. Meilin is also not related to Syaoran. **

**Japanese Lessons:  
****Hisashiburi long time no see**

**Featuring my abysmal lyrics. Don't take them anyway. **

-v-V-v-

A woman with overly teased blonde hair beamed her million dollar trademark smile at the camera as she clutched a sheet of paper in front of her.

_In other news tonight, Time Magazine has announced for the first time in its history, a tie for the annual Bachelor of the Year, but it was an understandable decision. The two men who receive this honor are none other than Eriol Hiiragizawa and Syaoran Li, the evenly matched kings of the Asian music empire. They are often compared to the sun and moon of the industry, for despite their similarities as celestial beings sharing the heavens of entertainment, they could not be any more different. As one would expect of the eligible bachelors, both men are devastatingly handsome, wealthy enough to be ranked in Forbes richest 100, and accomplished for their young ages of 23. They were even acknowledged to be best of friends in high society until an unexplained falling out last year. But true to their nature of night and day, Eriol and Syaoran have very different ideas on what makes good music. Eriol Hiiragizawa, son of the late Clow Reed and CEO of Pure Heart Records, specializes in a blend of English pop and light romantic ballads. His latest singer Yukito Tsukishiro's album "Songs of My Heart" sold over 5 million copies in its debut weekend in Japan. In contrast, Syaoran Li, the son of the late Fujitaka Kinomoto and CEO of Guilty Pleasures Incorporated, focuses on hard and edgy Asian rockers with an R&B flavor such as heartthrob Touya, who has also received a Grammy for Best New Artist. Their differences extend even to their reputations. Whereas Eriol is known for dressing in impeccably elegant suits and maintaining good company, Syaoran is infamous for trendsetting clothes fit for any princely bad boy, mastering the rocker look for even everyday appearances. Syaoran is more notorious for his openly many affairs with the world's elite models and actresses. Ironically, despite being such stark contrasts of each other, both enjoy immense popularity from the masses that thank them for the great music they provide. _

_However, Eriol Hiiragizawa may have an edge this summer with the unexpected release of a new pop group known as Angel's Kiss, featuring three lovely ladies known only as Chiharu, Naoko, and Riika, and judging from the promotion pictures of delightful innocence, Syaoran Li has his work cut out for him to match his rival. _

The television snapped off with a sudden blink. Syaoran, dressed in a crisp forest green business shirt that was unbuttoned halfway and designer black pants, leaned his elbows on his large mahogany desk, his brow furrowed. In the darkness of the large office, Takashi Yamazaki stood quietly by his side in an impeccably clean and dark suit.

"Sneaky bastard," Syaoran grinned, although the smile did not extend to his cold dark eyes. "A surprise release of a trio of innocent girls, eh?"

"I have already sent the scouts to look for suitable girls to represent us, Sir," Yamazaki stated quickly.

"If they're releasing by the summer, it only gives us a month to retaliate. That's not enough time to find three individuals and coach them into harmonizing with each other. We'll have to look through old scouting reports and pick up an already-formed trio."

Yamazaki smiled inwardly. Although there was some speculation in the media about how capable the two princes would be handling the music industries after the horrific car crash that killed Clow Reed and Fujitaka Kinomoto, the former kings of the business, he knew that his boss possessed an almost psychic foresight that made him absolutely deserving of the multi-million dollar empire. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden buzzer.

"Sir, Mr. Jin Zhang is here to see you," the secretary's voice sounded electronically through the intercom.

"Send him in," he snapped brusquely.

The door opened, and a handsome man in his early twenties strutted through in a pair of dark grey slacks without a shirt, displaying his toned chest within the sharp v of the buttoned suit jacket. With a shadow of a honey brown burned across his jaw, he raked back his shaggy blonde locks with languid ease, a toothpick held jauntily between his white even teeth.

"Hisashiburi," he drawled lazily, lifting a hand coolly toward Syaoran.

"Late to work again, Jin?" Syaoran mused amiably to him.

"Unavoidable. The ladies can't get enough of me," he crowed proudly, feigning annoyance with the sluts he fucked on a nightly basis as he stretched out his taut muscles. "If you bothered to come to the clubs with me, we'd be late to work together."

Syaoran smirked as he returned to his paperwork, scribbling his signature on a few contracts encased in blue velvet books. He had long known that the sole purpose of Jin trying to get Syaoran clubbing was so that Syaoran, with his now famous face and wallet, would attract more girls who would sleep with Jin, hoping to get closer to Syaoran. Turning down Jin became almost a ritual, being that he preferred the upper-class beautiful models and popular actresses over the commoners, but he gave him the courtesy to beg him a little more.

"Ever heard of the Twilight Den?" Jin's gold-flecked hazel eyes almost burned with arousal at the mere name.

"Isn't that the club that made its reputation by being the sleaziest place in Japan?" Yamazaki sneered disgustedly, although if he intended to offend Jin, failed.

"All the alcohol you can drink served by stacked waitresses, dancers everywhere, on the poles, in the cages, _and_…" Jin's toothy smile grew as he pulled out a poster of three luscious ladies from his jacket and spread it out over Syaoran's desk, interrupting his work. They were similarly dressed in scanty black leather as they posed on the glossy paper, a splash of letters in the corner indicating that they were playing at the Twilight Club on the weekends. "Fallen Angels," Jin whispered excitedly, as though it was paradise itself. "Rumored to be the sexiest bitches you've ever laid your eyes on, dancing like Satan's daughters for a dollar."

Syaoran gave the poster a cursory gaze before raising an amused eyebrow at Jin. "You got shot down by them, didn't you?"

Yamazaki snorted as he caught Jin's look of surprise, revealing that he indeed was rejected by the three. Jin brushed it off, and his features tightened as he leaned forward on Syaoran's desk. "You and me, tonight at the Twilight Den. What do you say?"

Syaoran's amber eyes flickered over the central girl, focusing not on the way she was deliciously bent over, but on her emerald eyes that seemed to say something much more in their cold stare.

"It's a date. What time should I pick you up?" Syaoran teased as he looked up at Jin, catching both him and Yamazaki off-guard.

-v-V-v-

A few minutes before the show was scheduled to begin, the Twilight Den was already packed with leering men who didn't seem to get enough of the complimentary lap-dances by the sexy waitresses as they served the beer. Not interested in watching the girl dry-hump the obese customers at the tables, Syaoran and Jin steered for the barstools, where a thin man with a thick mane of wavy golden locks was manning the counter. He wore the bar's uniform of a scarlet brocade vest over his white blouse and black slacks. His baleful topaz eyes smiled with amusement as he easily noticed how much the two handsome men stood out from the rest of the usual crowd of drunks and boors.

"Name's Kero, and you'll have the pleasure of me as your bartender this lovely evening," he grinned cheekily in a thick Osaka accent. "First time here?" he nodded to Syaoran as he wiped down a glass.

"Gin on the rocks, and make it a double," Syaoran grunted without answering him.

Kero chuckled as he dropped a few ice cubes into the glass. "Fair enough, but if you're here for the Fallen Angels, you might as well listen to my commentary."

"I think I'll have a scotch," Jin mused, imitating Syaoran's cool, but failing altogether as Kero ignored him and set down Syaoran's drink in front of him.

"Three pretty ladies, but they have more brains than you'd think. They make their own music, dance, and costumes," Kero dropped his voice to a whisper, as though it were classified information. "Three pretty ladies," he repeated, "make a pretty investment."

Syaoran smirked before picking up his gin and taking a sip. "So you recognized me, and want me to invest in the common sluts that work here?"

Kero's laughter boomed over the DJ's pumping music. "Common sluts? Ask your pal over there if he's still sporting that bruise on his heart after all three turned him down. And if you think they'd choose these blue-collar workers over rich pretty-boy over there, you're very much mistaken."

Jin winced visibly before reaching over the counter and grabbing the bottle of scotch, taking a wild swig at the open neck in response. He was thankful the lights on stage began to dim as the show finally started.

"DJ Spinel masterminding the box tonight," the maniacal voice cackled over the speakers. _(A/N: Get it, get it? DJ Spinel / Spinner? No? Ok…) _"Featuring the hottest act in the sleaziest club in Japan," he continued to crow proudly, "Twilight Den is proud to present…" There was a dramatic pause as the upbeat tempo started up. "Fallen Angels!" He stretched the last syllable as a spotlight snapped on the stage.

"Did you spike his drink again?" a waitress laughed as she set her serving tray on the bar counter next to Syaoran. Jin eyed her firm breasts under her thin tube-top, but she took no notice.

"A pinch of sugar does it every time," Kero murmured as he polished another glass.

"Why do you torture him so much?" she grinned, her fiery red curls bouncing impishly over her sparkling green eyes.

"He plays better music," Kero replied simply, to which she burst out laughing.

_Here's to the other 9 to 5  
__Done with biz's daily grind  
__Now club music pumping up my drive  
__Like bees to the honey,  
__All over me, (all over me)  
__It's time to say… good… bye_

The central figure Syaoran recognized with the cruel emerald eyes began dancing across the catwalk that jutted out into the crowd in little more than a thin white tank top and a school-girl's black miniskirt with artful slashes of checkered print across it and red tulle mesh peeking out underneath. Her fishnet stockings had similar torn holes as she completed the rocker look with her chunky boots and a streak of pink glitter in her long honey brown hair. He smiled inwardly to himself, watching the way her hips swiveled with a saucy passion. The spiked leather bracelet wrapped around her wrist caught a few rays of the spotlight as she raised her mike, soon joined by two others with long dark hair as the tempo shifted to a more R&B and rap blend.

_Licking my lips so scandalous  
__My eyes begging for every push  
__A-ha, did you really fall for this game girls play?  
__Were you so eager to do what we say?  
__Hate to tell you this but,  
__I've been faking all the way_

The girl with raven black locks tinted with red leaned her back against the other with wavier hair and purple streaks of glitter. Her fiery crimson eyes shot to the crowd as she licked her ruby lips for emphasis, dancing in a tight white blouse that she tied up to expose her taut midriff and the top of a lacy black bra, and black short shorts that sparkled like latex as it clung to her like a second skin. Her thigh high leather boots marched on the stage to the beat as she grinded her back against the other girl, who wore a white halter top that gave the appearance of a business shirt, with a black mock-vest cinching around the ruffled white around the thin black tie that was sewed on. Also exposing her slender waist, her black micro-mini seemed to be anything but business with a flash of black garters holding up the black thigh-high stockings, her high heels balancing her serpent-like slithers. The two flashed smiles as the music pumped on, their aroused moans punctuating the beat.

_Oooh… ahhh… oh right there_

_Haha,  
__Just like that you're under our spell  
__Three witches we, for us you fell  
__Coming this way like you're the ish  
__Like you have something women want? You wish_

The three centered on the catwalk, and the girl with amethyst eyes glittering with lust behind the thin square frames set low on her nose, swung her leg along the pole, swiveling down as they came toward the end of the song, lining up as their hands and hips rocked in unison.

_Here's to the other 9 to 5  
__Done with biz's daily grind  
__Now club music pumping up my drive  
__Like bees to the honey,  
__All over me, (all over me)  
__It's time to say…  
__Oh yeah, you know it's time…  
__To say… good… bye_

They struck a pose as the last note was drowned out by an explosion of wolf whistles and applause, and it only then occurred to Syaoran how similar they looked to the Angel's Kiss promo pictures, except that before him were absolute devils with longer hair. The one on the left with amethyst eyes even sported glasses like Naoko. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he set down his glass of gin. Kero glanced over him, a roguish twinkle in his eyes.

"Aren't they great?" the waitress sighed wistfully before taking up her tray and making her rounds again. "They get paid more than the other strippers here, and they don't take off a single piece of clothing."

"Would you like to meet them? Five hundred bucks gets you a backstage pass. That's even less than what I charged your friend last night," Kero cackled as Jin glowered darkly at him, but he seemed unfazed.

Jin flicked the wad of cash easily out of his wallet and threw it at Kero, determined to try his luck again with Syaoran flanked at his side. Kero smiled and after pocketing the money, led them behind the crimson curtains toward the dressing room, where the strippers for the next act were preparing. They cast an interested look over Syaoran, but he steered Jin onward toward the three girls who were taking a sip of water and combing the glitter out of their hair.

The one with crimson eyes finally looked up as she caught sight of Kero and the playboy she met the night before. "Pimping us off again, Kero?" she snorted in an annoyed, off-hand manner.

"Gas is expensive," Kero said mildly, referring to the yellow Mustang he was able to purchase through the tips alone from anxious customers eager to meet the girls backstage. "Ladies, your gentlemen of the evening," he smiled as he gave a sweeping mock bow, introducing Syaoran and Jin. "Gentlemen, I give you Meilin, Tomoyo, and Sakura," he nodded to each of the girls in turn.

Tomoyo, rolled her amethyst eyes flecked with grey at the familiar face of Jin, whose gaze was already focused on Sakura as she wiped off the garish lipstick that made her seem even paler under the bright lights of the vanity. "Don't you ever give up, John?"

"It's Jin," he scowled as he automatically ran his fingers through his long hair.

"Kero says you make your own music," Syaoran stated finally, staying in the shadows.

Meilin raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him before returning to the mirror to brush out the last of the red streaks in her hair. "I'll give you credit for being the first to actually talk about the song itself."

Syaoran smirked coldly at her. "Can't blame them with such an amateur performance."

Sakura finally turned from her chair, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously. "Amateur?" she repeated.

Syaoran waved his hand dismissively. "The costumes were fine, if I consider how inaccessible the trendiest fabrics must be to you, as well as the dance on Meilin's part. But the lyrics were…" Syaoran trailed off, chuckling softly.

Sakura stood up, rage searing behind her cold eyes as her fists clenched at her sides. "What about the lyrics?"

Tomoyo glanced between Syaoran and Sakura as she leaned comfortably on the dresser's edge before deciding to step in. "What Sakura means to say is, that I am in charge of the costumes and music, and Meilin choreographs the dances. Sakura writes our lyrics."

Syaoran looked Sakura up and down, taking in her slender form and sultry curves before cracking a sideways smile. "So you're the one responsible for the amateur lyrics?"

"And what makes you think they're _amateur_?" Sakura spat angrily, stepping just close enough to be in punching range to hit him.

His mocking laugh burned her to the very core. "You seemed like such a bright girl until you started talking. You can't possibly be deluded enough to think that this crowd was here to listen to you singing those words. Even Jin wouldn't get hard over it."

She stepped dangerously closer, glaring up at his statuesque build as she felt his hot breath flow over her. "I must be delusional, then. Please, enlighten me with what makes my lyrics so amateur."

He didn't back off, and towered above her so closely that if his stormy amber eyes drifted just a little more south from her blazing eyes, he would be treated to a delicious view of the top of her breasts. "There was no flow, no real story behind the words, just a lot of nonsense bullshit. In short…"

"In short," she repeated, each word laced with spite.

His smirk was painfully derisive. "In short, you write like a virgin."

There was a dead silence before Meilin tittered softly. "The chorus _was_ a little weak, Sakura."

The tense atmosphere was suddenly diffused as Sakura whirled on Meilin, a hurt expression in her eyes. "Meilin!"

"But you've got my interest, being perceptive enough to pick up on our flaw," Tomoyo continued smoothly as she gazed over Syaoran with renewed amusement. "Who are you?"

Syaoran didn't reply and merely tucked a business card in Sakura's cleavage before walking away. Caught off-guard, she felt her cheeks and temper flare. She ripped the card out and gave it a hard glare that wasn't so quick to diminish as it read:

Syaoran Li  
CEO of Guilty Pleasure Inc.

Below were an address and a number of the office. Scowling, she threw a last-minute insult at him, knowing full well that he was in charge of the famous music industry.

"What makes you think we'd even call you?" she snarled.

He didn't miss a beat, and continued his way toward the back exit. "I didn't think you'd be foolish enough to choose this place over a twenty million dollar contract with Guilty Pleasures. You're fortunate enough that I need the three of you, even if you are just a figurehead," he called out.

"You… You…" Sakura stammered, so consumed with rage that she had trouble getting her words out, but the door had already slammed shut as Syaoran and Jin left the club.

-v-V-v-

**Muahaha, nobody out-cools Syaoran, even Sakura. Wonder if Sakura will swallow her pride and sign up for a twenty million contract? How long would she even last under Syaoran's princely egoism? Find out the next chapter. **


	2. Risk and Risque

-v-V-v-

"You _hired_ them?" Yamazaki couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice and belatedly tried to mollify the situation. "Sir, with all due respect, I am highly against an amateur stripping show as our first line of defense against Angel's Kiss."

Syaoran smirked as he thumbed through a book in the privacy of his den. "They're not strippers themselves, Yamazaki, but I agree. They'll be the attack."

For the first time ever in his career under Guilty Pleasures, Yamazaki seriously doubted Syaoran. For a moment, he wished he had agreed on joining Jin and Syaoran the night they went to the Twilight Den, but how could he have foreseen Syaoran handpicking _strippers_ to be the world's next top idols? Jin was, as usual, lounging on Syaoran's furniture with a whiskey in hand.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Yammy," Jin slurred rather drunkenly. "Jesus, they haven't even agreed to the contract yet, and you're already considering resigning. You don't have to worry about a damn thing. I'll be the one managing them, and I'll make them _gold_."

Yamazaki snorted. "Quite contrarily, I'm even more worried for the future of Guilty Pleasures with you as manager. Is there a reason why Kaho is not manager, Sir?" he directed his question to Syaoran.

"Touya's career exploded into fame faster than she had expected. She's too busy managing his career to worry about a new group," Syaoran stated calmly. "But you do make a good point, Yamazaki. Jin spends half his life drinking, and the other half sleeping with as many different girls as he can."

He shut the book with a snap. "That's why you're going to manage the Fallen Angels."

Yamazaki had been nodding as Syaoran listed Jin's faults until the point where he was sure his ears had misheard him. "What?" he faltered, looking up in surprise.

"It was never in my intention to let Jin do anything in Guilty Pleasures other than Public Relations. Consider this your promotion, Yamazaki."

Jin was a bit miffed, and showed it as he jabbed his finger in Syaoran's direction. "Whaddya mean Suh-koo-rah's not going to be my bitch?" he hiccupped.

"B-but Sir, I really can not accept this—" Yamazaki stammered.

"I have faith in you, Yamazaki," Syaoran said with a stern finality that abruptly ended the conversation.

-v-V-v-

"It's just so _big_," Tomoyo marveled out loud.

"Gigantic," Meilin breathed in similar awe as they stood in the lobby of Guilty Pleasure's main office building and gawked at the flurry of activity of workers streaming in from the morning commute.

"I can't believe you dragged me here," Sakura grumbled huffily as she made her way for the elevators.

Despite her aggressive loathing for Syaoran, Tomoyo and Meilin cajoled her (rather violently, after an hour of her stubborn refusal) into seeing how badly they needed the money. She sighed as she absent-mindedly fidgeted with the pink dress Tomoyo forced her to wear to look presentable, glancing at her reflection in the elevator polished steel doors. She decided she didn't look as sleazy as her work required her to be the night before, but still exuded some of her natural appeal as the skirt ended above her knees, the white sleeveless tank clinging to her form, and her long, honey-blonde hair loosely curled around her shoulders. Behind her, Tomoyo and Meilin were similarly dressed in the business attire in a deeper purple and black.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open with mechanical smoothness. Tomoyo and Sakura stepped in, but Meilin held back, her eyes wide open at the person in there with them.

"T-Touya," she squeaked as she stared at the rocker slouched against the wall who glanced up bemusedly at his name.

Touya, with his dark spiked hair and coal-black eyes, flashed a toothy white smile at Meilin, who subsequently failed to say anything else. He was dressed in a tight black t-shirt that was designed with torn slashes with red fabric showing underneath, giving it the appearance of him bleeding, and black, baggy pants that had buckles and straps criss-crossing along the fabric dramatically. It was easy to see why, even without the notorious reputation as a rocker, he was so popular; he was dead sexy.

"You should probably get out of the way," he pointed out huskily to Meilin.

Indeed, the elevator doors were stalled as Meilin stood in their way to closing, and she hastily stepped into the elevator, turning her flushed cheeks away from him. Sakura sighed as they zoomed up to the top floor of the skyscraper. Her ears almost popped with the speed of the elevator, but it was more uncomfortable being aware of how Meilin was desperately restraining herself from asking her favorite singer for an autograph. As they rocketed to the 55th floor, Touya got off a few stories below their destination. As soon as the doors slid shut behind him, Meilin and Tomoyo burst into excited squeals.

"He _talked_ to me, Tomoyo!" Meilin cried delightedly, as if being told she was in the way by him was her dream come true.

"He stood there, right next to me! He was so close, I could _smell_ the cologne on him," Tomoyo gushed.

"Sakura," Meilin turned suddenly on her best friend and adopted sister of 10 years, having met her in the streets as an abandoned orphan as well. "We are _not_ giving up this contract. No matter what," she added with a note of finality.

Sakura didn't bother retorting as the elevator doors opened once more at the top floor and walked toward the secretary's desk. "Fallen Angels here to see Syaoran Li."

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked cheerfully.

"Don't bother. They're our guests," Jin said as he suddenly appeared by their side. "Morning, ladies," he grinned lecherously, a toothpick clenched between his pearly teeth.

"Do _you_ have an appointment?" the secretary's voice asked Jin with equal saccharine.

He scowled, knowing that the secretary was purposely giving him the same treatment as a stranger despite his high position in the company. He leaned over and stared her down, smiling unkindly as she straightened instinctively to get away from him. His finger punched down the intercom buzzer.

"What?" Syaoran's irritated voice came from the small white box.

"Skip the lunch, Syaoran. I've brought dessert," Jin crooned.

"You don't have an appointment. Only the ladies are allowed in," Syaoran snapped before the intercom shut off again.

Jin glowered darkly as he was helpless to watch the three saunter breezily away from him (although they did leave a lasting impression on him) and step into the office, Meilin giving him a condescending wave as she shut the door behind them.

"Have a seat," Syaoran pointed toward the low-backed black leather couches in front of his desk as he strode out from behind his desk, taking his place at the head of the glass and steel coffee table.

Sakura couldn't help being stunned by the richly decorated room with slate grey walls providing a contrast to the dark modern furniture. Behind the large mahogany desk, the Venetian blinds were drawn, so the only sunlight slipping into the room was from a few slats toward the end. On the other end of the room, curio cabinets of expensive-looking pottery treasures and golden baubles rested alongside an array of black and dark green gilded katanas and other weaponry. _A rich vampire_, she grumbled darkly in her mind as she finally turned toward Syaoran who snapped his fingers suddenly, breaking her thoughts.

"Bring the contracts, Yamazaki," he said seemingly to the air.

For a moment, Sakura was confident he was insane, but the thought was dispelled when a shock of black hair appeared out of the shadows bearing three black leather-bound contract portfolios. The man in the suit bowed slightly as he set a portfolio in front of each of the girls as they sat in muted surprise.

"We're not signing anything just yet," Sakura said suddenly as Yamazaki continued to set a pen over each folder. She quickly stifled a grimace as Meilin pinched her discreetly on her thigh.

Syaoran raised an amused eyebrow at her, his cold gaze matched to hers before finally smirking derisively. "Am I to understand that you came all this way to refuse a contract with Guilty Pleasures?"

Sakura bristled; even the tone of his deep voice was infuriating. "Maybe," she retorted tartly before Meilin's pinch took a more painful grip.

"We'd like a chance to read over the contracts first, if you don't mind," Tomoyo cut in smoothly.

"Of course. There's no fine print anywhere, and you can sign at your leisure," Syaoran grinned as he leaned back, as if he were unaware of Sakura quietly arguing with Meilin in front of him.

Sakura finally managed to slap Meilin's hand away and grab her copy of the contract. Perusing it, she flipped through a few pages, inattentively crossing her legs as she leaned it against her thigh. She paused, rereading the lines that promised twenty million annually plus royalties provided she would adhere to every guidance of the music industry, which was fair enough because she sure as hell had no clue about the business behind being a famous singer. But a frown still continued to crease her brow; it was almost too good to be true. Why would this elite suddenly pick Fallen Angels, the sleaziest act in Japan riding on her trite lyrics (she had finally admitted it to herself that her lyrics were not the best, being forced to grind out a new song every week, but she had high confidence that if she had the time to polish it, it would be the best)? What was he thinking, taking a chance on a performance he only saw once, and planning it for the next multi-million dollar debut? She snuck a peek at Syaoran, but she was surprised to see him already watching her intently. She dropped her gaze instinctively, and after a while, glanced up again, but his look had not drifted from her face. After a moment of politely ignoring him, she snapped, "What the hell are you looking at?"

"Just wondering when you'd sign," he smiled cruelly as he gestured to Tomoyo and Meilin next to her. Their signed contracts were already stacked neatly in front of him. Sakura stared at them incredulously. Had she even blinked before they signed?

"Fine, but if this goes horribly wrong, you have only yourselves to blame," she growled at the girls, who excitedly hugged her in thanks while she struggled to wiggle the pen between them to sign.

"Excellent," Syaoran smiled broadly as he yanked the contract quickly from under her pen as soon as she had lifted it, instantly filling her with suspicion and remorse. He snapped the folder shut and handed the stack to Yamazaki, who had reappeared with ghostly silence at his side. "From today on, Yamazaki will be your manager," he continued brusquely as he stood. "I expect the lyrics for the debut song to be on my desk tomorrow morning."

Sakura's mind was spinning; there was suddenly so much activity, it was getting hard to keep up. "Wait, tomorrow?" she finally stammered, grasping at a few words he rapidly fired at her. "Lyrics? Debut song? You're kidding, right?"

Syaoran paid no attention to her as he ran through the list of instructions he must have memorized. "I need Yamazaki for the rest of the day, so why don't you take these girls to their loft, Kaho?" Syaoran called.

Out of the shadows, another figure emerged, but it was a beautiful woman with long and sleek red locks. Her stylish gray business suit accentuated along her slim waist, a strand of pearls at her throat making her seem more mature and older than she was.

_How many people does he have in the shadows?_ Sakura thought sourly to herself before Kaho ushered them out the door.

-v-V-v-

"It's just so _big_," Tomoyo marveled out loud.

"Gigantic," Meilin breathed in similar awe.

The scene was just too painfully familiar for Sakura as they stood in front of a charming brick house to which Kaho had brought them. Past the tall white wrought-iron gates was a well-manicured lawn dotted with several trees and patches of flowers. A stone walkway wended through the garden to lead to the large white oak doors after circling a small fountain. The interior of the house was just as lush, with modern furniture set to a theme of white and gold, but it was more than a place to live in. The piano room was designed as a section of a curved tower with glass walls so as not to interrupt the breathtaking view of the sunset over the ocean. There was also a dance studio that looked too large for just the three of them to practice in, and a smaller, but top-of-the-line recording station in the basement. In short, it was incomparable to the studio apartment they had shared in the slums of Tokyo.

Although Sakura was slightly mollified with the sheer luxury of the house, she still could not help but be chagrined at Syaoran for giving her a one-day deadline to write the debut song, the song that would ultimately decide the fate of their career. Stalking angrily past Meilin and Tomoyo who were excitedly taking advantage of the dance studio and piano room respectively, she shut herself up in her room, which was already equipped with stacks of blank music paper. She sighed and took the top sheet to her desk, and slowly began to write…

-v-V-v-

Sakura couldn't help but fidget in Syaoran's presence. He made her uneasy, especially with his habit of silently watching her at times, startling her when she looked up at him. He was giving the music paper a cursory review, and spared her no sideways glance, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he read through the lyrics she had managed to bang out the night before.

"Crap," he uttered finally.

She blinked up in surprise, the word sounding foreign after a seeming eternity of silence.

"Utter crap," he repeated before throwing the sheet back at her.

She instinctively caught it, but bristled. "It wasn't that bad considering I only had a day to write it," she shot back, her eyes narrowed. "Even the club gave me a week to get a new song out."

"Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't be working under me anymore, but alas, your contract saves you. You would have been better off as a waitress in the Twilight Den, since Tomoyo and Meilin would continue to train under me, and you'd be nothing without them," he said nonchalantly.

"Why you…" she spluttered, her eyes darting around on his desk for something to throw at him in her rage, but it was to her extreme misfortune that it was clean and empty except for a stack of portfolios at his left elbow. "Yamazaki!" she hissed, fixing her glare on Syaoran. "Bring me a glass of water!"

There was a silence until Syaoran laughed softly. "Better do as the lady wishes, Yamazaki."

Yamazaki appeared faithfully at his words with a glass of water on a tray, and set it down before her. She wasted no time and seized it immediately, but Syaoran beat her to the punch; he grabbed her wrist with such raw strength, she winced, a bit of water splashing over their hands.

"Don't be so foolish," he said silkily, easily overpowering her. "I want new lyrics by tomorrow."

She stared at him, searching his face for some bit of sanity, and finding none, wrenched her arm away from him, splashing more water on herself than on the desk, and slammed the glass down before stalking away.

Shortly after the door shut behind her, it opened once again, and Jin slid inside, rubbing his jaw. Greeting Syaoran with a grin, he took a comfortable seat on the couch.

"You know," he began, "I reckon you were right about her being a virgin."

"What? Oh." Syaoran had already forgotten about the first encounter with her, when he bluntly told her she wrote like a virgin. "What makes you say that?"

"If it's not Meilin and Tomoyo all over her like the Secret Service, she packs a painful defense as well," Jin laughed ruefully as he touched his jaw again.

"She punched you just now?" Syaoran snickered.

There was no shame to Jin's nod; after all, she did touch him, and in that sense, that could only mean he was getting closer to her heart.

"A virgin," Syaoran grinned thoughtfully, a wicked gleam already twinkling behind his stormy amber eyes. "I didn't think anyone could work in that club and still be a virgin."

"Curious enough to find out?" Jin laughed, knowing of Syaoran's fetish for taking virginities of beautiful women; it made them a slut entirely for him, and they were chained eternally by that one unforgettable moment, long after Syaoran would dump them.

"Maybe," he flashed a ghost of a smile back to Jin. "Maybe."

There was a buzz of the intercom once more. "Sir, Ms. Katrina Kawashima is on line 1, requesting to speak to you."

Syaoran leaned over and pressed a button at the intercom. "Tell her I'll meet her at the hotel."

"The supermodel?" Jin gave a low, appreciative whistle. "How'd you bag her?"

Syaoran merely chuckled as he picked up his suit jacket and slung it over his shoulder before striding out the door.

-v-V-v-

"You're so lucky, Katrina!" her model friend moaned.

"Yeah, Bachelor of the Year…" another whispered in awe.

"At the rate you're going, he won't be a bachelor much longer," grinned a third enviously.

"Girls, girls, I'm sure you'll find someone out there for you," Katrina smiled as she tucked a stray lock of jet-black hair behind her ear. She was practicing her smile in front of her compact, deciding on the perfect way her sapphire eyes would glimmer to seduce Syaoran. "Do you think I should blow a kiss or wink first?" she asked, a little perturbed as she pouted in front of the mirror.

"Why not both?" Syaoran said with his usual languid grace.

"Syaoran!" Katrina squealed before jumping up into his arms and hugging him around his neck.

"Hi," he greeted coolly.

"Oh, girls, this is Syaoran Li who, as you know, is the CEO of Guilty Pleasures," Katrina grinned proudly as she leaned her back against his chest. "Syaoran, these are some of my colleagues I work with in the modeling industry."

He nodded to each. "Hello."

"Katrina says that you were the best she ever had," gushed the one in a leather miniskirt.

He smirked as Katrina blushed hotly. "Elisa!" she hissed.

"Katrina's not so bad herself," he said lightly.

"Ever had the hunger for something more exotic?" a voice came from behind them. They turned to see a tall and tanned lanky girl with closely cropped ringlets of cobalt blue. Her copper eyes laughed with interest at Katrina's visible rage. "You're going to get a few wrinkles that Botox can't fix, honey," she smiled.

"Genevieve," Katrina spat tightly to her model rival.

Genevieve gave her no attention and smoothly strutted up to Syaoran, her expensive Coach heels clicking against the marble floor of the hotel lobby. "Well?" she purred. "Why don't you try me for tonight?"

Katrina's nails closed protectively around Syaoran's arm. "Fuck off, Gen, and crawl back under the rock you came from."

She clucked her tongue disapprovingly at Katrina. "Such harsh language, Katrina? Unlike your bimbo friends, I'm not going to ignore the rumors of Syaoran being the ultimate playboy and…" she chuckled, "ultimate lover."

"Get in line," Katrina growled, but Syaoran firmly pulled out of her grasp.

"Why don't you?" Syaoran drawled in a bored tone as he took up Genevieve's arm. "I detest clingy girls. You should have known that."

As they walked away from the stunned Katrina, surrounded by her flock of so-called friends who had already begun whispering darkly to each other, Syaoran raised a hand without looking back. "Don't wait up for me," he called out as Katrina clenched her fist so tightly, her French manicured nails were dotted with the blood dripping from her palm.

-v-V-v-

"One fucking day!" Sakura moaned in anguish into her pillow.

There was no possible way out of the situation. Demanding to see the contract in an attempt to find something that would be her salvation against Syaoran's tyranny, Yamazaki provided a copy that not only seemed to have barred all loopholes, but forbade her from touching her twenty million dollar paycheck until she had produced "satisfying results", and now, more than ever, Sakura was regretting ever signing up for the hellish torture of working under Syaoran. Even her mind seemed to stop functioning as usual around him, and she lost her touch with writing abilities.

"Shit!" she swore viciously as she hurled the plush pink pillow across the room and narrowly missed Tomoyo's head as she suddenly opened the door.

"Sorry," Tomoyo blinked. "I was going to ask if you wanted some dinner, but I guess not?"

Sakura sighed and shook her head. "No thanks, I'm not hungry, but I'm the one sorry, Tomoyo. It's just that I'm stressed out over Syaoran," she glowered with loathing as she said his name.

"Oh yeah, I figured you'd have a crush on him," Tomoyo grinned mischievously.

Sakura almost toppled off her bed in surprise. "What?" she finally spluttered.

"Oh, you mean you _don't_ have a crush on him and are stressed about how to tell him?" The glowing light dimmed in Tomoyo's face.

"No!" she shouted a little too loudly. "Why would I like that insensitive, pompous, too-rich-for-his-own-good egotistical megalomaniac who's forcing me to write up new lyrics in a day?" she wailed desperately.

"I thought you wrote them last night." It was Tomoyo's turn to be surprised.

"He's making me _rewrite_ them," Sakura fumed.

"But isn't that just a deadline extension then?"

Sakura froze as it suddenly began to process in her admittedly dense mind. "You mean," she breathed incredulously, "I could still work on it tomorrow and as long as I need, and totally blow off his deadline?"

"Well, I didn't say it _quite_ like that…" Tomoyo warned falteringly, but it was too late. Sakura was already cackling with glee as she ran downstairs to grab dinner, suddenly regaining her appetite.

-v-V-v-

"Nothing?" Syaoran raised an eyebrow at her.

"No-thing," she emphasized each syllable smugly as she sat across his desk once more the next day.

He tapped his fingertips together, drumming them lightly as his brow furrowed in thought.

"And why do you come with _nothing_?" he finally asked.

"I was rather uninspired," she said airily, her arms crossed in satisfaction. "Maybe I wouldn't have such a stubborn writer's block if I had a shopping spree with the twenty mil," she mentioned pointedly.

He did something she didn't expect; he laughed, and it wasn't like his condescending smirks. She absently thought to herself how handsome he was when he smiled honestly like that, but she didn't have much time to muse over it as he suddenly reached over and seized her against his lips, crushing her into his powerful arms in a hot, passionate kiss.

-v-V-v-

**Cliffhanger! What's going on? Is Sakura Syaoran's newest target? How will Sakura react? To be continued in the next chapter…**


	3. Ends and Beginnings

**I failed to mention that Fujitaka Kinomoto, though dead, is not related to Sakura. I took the Tsubasa Chronicle take on Fujitaka being Syaoran's father, and made Clow Reed Eriol's father (in my mind, it worked out with the familial resemblance). I make a mention of Sakura's past in this chapter, particularly Nadeshiko, which I have kept as her mother. Thanks for all the reviews! I tend to upload faster with more reviews, so keep them coming!**

**-v-V-v-**

**_Last chapter…_**

_He did something she didn't expect; he laughed, and it wasn't like his condescending smirks. She absently thought to herself how handsome he was when he smiled honestly like that, but she didn't have much time to muse over it as he suddenly reached over and seized her against his lips, crushing her into his powerful arms in a hot, passionate kiss. _

Her mind was numb, but she didn't mind for the moment. For that moment, she was even yielding to his advances, the tip of his tongue gently prying her lips open and slipping in between, stroking the roof of her mouth indecently as his hands seemed to grip the entirety of her body with wild abandon, kneading her firm breasts and cupping the rounded cheek of her ass through her tight black miniskirt. With a soft growl of pleasure, he hoisted her lithe frame over the desk, knocking pens and crumpled papers to the floor as he dropped her on his lap, her knees straddling his waist as she was too unsteady to get a firm footing. He released her breast for a moment to drag his fingers into her silky honey-blonde locks and bend her head down to his in the chair, leaning her body against his as he continued to force his kiss on her.

She was strangely caught in a moment of clashing feelings, in a curious deviation of stasis, as though she had been frozen to the spot, yet her body was so hot… so hot… So hot, it made her drowsy enough to close her eyes and sink into deeper bliss against his lips, despite the awakening arousal of need within her core. She gasped as she finally snapped her eyes open with horror, realizing where she was as she shoved her hands in between their bodies and pushed hard, throwing him away from her. Her mind reeling with the atrocity of the treachery she committed to herself, she glared up at him, wiping her swollen lips with the back of her hand.

"You—Why did you—What the hell are you doing?" she cried hatefully, her cheeks flaring up with embarrassment at how easily she was giving in rather than anger.

Belatedly, she slid off his lap, but unceremoniously sank to the floor, her knees easily buckling under her as she panted, her pink cheeks darkened against her fair skin. His laugh had returned to the mockingly snide chuckle as he swiveled slightly in his executive chair to look at her pathetic form on her knees before him.

"Damn, you really must be a virgin," he burst out laughing, his cruel grin high on his lips as he noted her weakened state so vastly contrasting the firecracker she had been just a few moments before. "Was that your first kiss too?"

Although seemingly impossible, Sakura's face flushed a few degrees pinker as she dragged herself up, clutching the edge of his desk for support as she took a few deep breaths.

"Asshole," she muttered tersely before drunkenly stumbling back to the door to leave.

"I hope that was enough inspiration for you to write the lyrics by tomorrow," he called out before she left, his grin not fading as he shook with laughter, readjusting his desk.

-v-V-v-

That night, Sakura was flat on her back, entranced with the white draping canopy over the four-poster bed. She sighed again deeply as she rested the back of her palm against her smooth forehead, her other hand's fingers tracing along her pink lips lightly. She could still taste his tongue in her mouth, and although she was immediately repulsed by the thought that her first kiss was stolen by her egotistic boss, she couldn't help but blush with the memory of his touch sealed into her flesh. Although she had no other experience to compare it to, she knew it was a good kiss. It was a moment of electric passion, and she had never so badly wanted something she knew was so impossibly bad for her. In just the few days she had known him, she could feel the slow addiction to the drug of arousal, an arousal that somehow, only he managed to spark.

There was a soft knock on her door.

"Come in," she called, rolling over to look at the door.

Meilin and Tomoyo's head popped in, both wearing rather pensive looks.

"What's up?" Sakura asked, sitting up properly in the center of the bed.

"Just checking up on you," Meilin smiled awkwardly. "You know, ever since you came back from the office, you were just… kind of… rawr," she finished lamely with her fingers hooked for emphasis.

"We were wondering if we did something wrong," Tomoyo continued meekly.

Sakura giggled and patted her palms down on the spots next to her, inviting them to jump in with her. "Of course not. Get up here," she laughed, feeling her day's worries melt in a flash with her friends by her side.

After a few hours into the twilight of obnoxious giggling and gossip, too much popcorn, and loud groans of disapproval and fits of laughter while watching _Bridget Jones' Diary_, Tomoyo and Meilin decided to sleep in Sakura's room, for old time's sake. Tucked under the covers of the huge bed in the darkness, Sakura's head peeped out over the edge between them.

"Ne, can we ask why were you so upset before?" Meilin asked softly.

"Hmm, well it wasn't anything major," Sakura lied, crossing her fingers under the blanket. "I was just upset that my lyrics weren't coming out well."

"Oh that's right, you didn't hand in anything today, right? Was Syaoran upset?" Tomoyo whispered.

Sakura shook her head and smiled bravely to Tomoyo. "I told you, that bastard grovels at my feet. I demanded more time, and I got it."

"Oh, well that's good I guess," Meilin nodded. "But what's wrong with your lyrics?"

"Just a case of writer's block, I think. Well, I mean, I'm gushing with words, but they don't fit with the topic I'm trying to write about."

Sakura felt better about that. It wasn't a complete lie. As soon as she arrived home, she threw herself at her desk, determined to fix the abysmal lyrics she wrote the night before so that she wouldn't have to endure another session of Syaoran's "inspiration", but the words stubbornly drifted from the song's theme of female singularity, and she ended up selecting words like "longing" and "crave". Frustrated, she had trashed the whole thing, and had not taken the time to get back to it yet, although she knew that it would only cause more trouble the next day.

"Well, why are you trying to force it?" Meilin questioned.

"Huh?" The question caught Sakura off guard.

"Well, before we worked at the Twilight Den, your lyrics were amazing, and they flowed easily, right?" Meilin continued.

Sakura's brows knit as she thought about it, and slowly realized that she was right. "Yeah… yeah, they did. It must have been because I had more time to think about it."

"No, you wrote at least two or three songs a week, but they were about what _you_ wanted to say to the world, remember? Not what the customers wanted to hear," Meilin prodded.

"Yeah…" Sakura trailed off, surprised at having let herself go like that. Somewhere along the line of banging out fresh lyrics week after week, all to the confines of the teasing, racy themes the owners had insisted she sing about, she had burned out.

"You don't have to force it anymore, Sakura. You're your own boss now when it comes to the song's theme, and I know that if you focus, and find that voice you've been ignoring for so long now, we'll have a great hit in our hands," Tomoyo smiled reassuringly. "Just take a moment and forget that you ever had to stick with one mantra. Write what comes easily to you, and it sounds to me like your muse has already been bugging for your attention."

Sakura nodded, and finally smiled, watching the full moon span across the dark cloudless sky past the French doors that lead to her balcony. She stayed still until she heard the soft breathing of Tomoyo and Meilin by her sides, suppressing a giggle as Meilin turned slightly, a murmur of "Touya" escaping her lips. As the moonlight glowed over each friend's beautiful face, Sakura was deluged with memories of when she first met them, nearly ten years ago…

_God was a cruel trickster. For her 13th birthday, he took away all the things she had taken for granted in a flash: her mother, her home, and her friends. Her mother had always been sickly, but this time, the disease spread too far. The doctors tried their best, or at least, Sakura assumed so, given the enormous medical bills she was left to tend with following her mother's death. When she got home that night, she discovered that the hospital fees weren't the only debts her mother had. The entire house was marked with small stickers on the furniture, and there were people she had never met scurrying around to put more stickers on everything they could get their hands on. _

"_What's going on? Who are you people?" she shouted. _

_There was finally a familiar face in the crowd, the cruel landlord, his large, rotund face and piggy black eyes gleaming as they looked at her in her school uniform. "Just settling a few debts, Sakura darling," he chuckled greasily. _

"_What debts?" Sakura frowned, never realizing how much her mother struggled to maintain their middle class lifestyle. In hindsight, she should have realized that despite her mother's two jobs as a hired housekeeper during the day, and a lounge singer at nights, she could not have made so much to send her to the best private grammar school in the city._

"_Indeed, what debts? They can be so easily forgotten with a bit of a deal, just between you and me, Sakura, love," he grinned breezily, and Sakura stepped back instinctively as he continued to eye her lecherously. _

"_Never," she whispered hoarsely. Her eyes flitted back to the crowd, and she suddenly charged after one who lifted a silver locket from a small music box. "Wait! Not that one, please!" she cried desperately. _

"_I'll take what I please, little girl," the middle-aged women sneered over her horn-rimmed spectacles. _

"_I just want the locket, please! Just that necklace, you can have everything else!" Sakura whispered weakly, her grip tightening around the woman's fat fingers encased in a multitude of ruby and amethyst gemstone rings. _

"_Let her have it, Eloise," the landlord smirked as he appeared behind her. "You can have it, Sakura, if you'll work for me in my bar." _

_Sakura shuddered involuntarily, remembering one night she had the misfortune of taking a shortcut past the bar and saw a drunken man totter his way out, a flash of scantily clad women squealing inside the bright lights on stage visible as the door swung open and closed. She glanced back at the music box, and swallowed. "All right," she whispered, and hastily reached for the locket, holding it close to her heart, a few tears escaping over her long lashes. "All right," she repeated as her eyes fluttered opened and glared darkly at the landlord. _

_And so that was how Sakura came to the Twilight Den. It was only after she had finished her shift assisting the bartender Kero behind the counter that she realized she had no home to go back to. The two waitresses who seemed to be about her age took notice, and had kindly offered her to stay with them. She was so fortunate it was Tomoyo and Meilin. Tomoyo had run away from her mother who had plans to make her heir to the Daidouji toy factory kingdom, despite her dreams of becoming a fashionable singer, proudly displaying some of her more beautiful creations of clothing and music. Meilin was another orphan, fending for herself on the streets since she was ten, and perfected her martial arts after so many encounters with the worst of mankind. Her mastery of fighting lead to her passion for dance, and enabled her to have the stamina to support her high jumps, daring twists, and innovative new dance moves. That night, the two friends discovered that Sakura harbored a passion for writing lyrics, and forced her to develop it by sending her to the public high school in the day, and bribing Kero to let her sleep behind the counter at night. When they turned 18, Meilin and Tomoyo fought the landlord who wanted Sakura to waitress, and formed Fallen Angels, a slice of a dream come true for each of them. It was truly because of her friends that she even had a chance to write the best of lyrics for their group now… _

"_You don't have to force it anymore, Sakura…" _Tomoyo's voice echoed in her memory as she slipped out of the bed and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen.

"Let it flow," she whispered as she lifted her pen over the stack of fresh papers she had carried down with her.

That night in Tokyo, Sakura was not the only one who could not sleep...

"Oh God, yes, harder!" Genevieve shrieked in delight as she reached up and grabbed the bars of the wooden headboard tightly, her long smooth legs parted wide as Syaoran slammed deeply into her.

He pulled at the rosy nipple that crowned each firm breast, and smirked as he watched her face contort with the pleasure he gave her, her hips rocking under him as his thick meat pistoned rapidly into her dripping folds.

"Oh fuck yeah, you feel so good Syaoran," she moaned passionately, cinching her legs tighter around his hips. "Kiss me," she begged.

Although she was so close to her climax, Syaoran suddenly stopped, a dark scowl on his face as he slid out of her and shoved her legs away. "You managed to break both rules," he muttered as he reached for his clothes.

"What?" Genevieve was still reeling, her slick sex begging for him, left slightly distended with the absence of his cock. "Oh," she murmured as it finally dawned on her that she had screamed his name in bed, and begged to kiss him. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered as she managed to crawl up and close her arms around his chest. "You just made me feel so good, I forgot all about your rules. Can't blame a girl, can you?"

"I don't blame you for anything," he smiled wryly as he pulled out of her grasp again. "You're worth nothing to me, so I don't bother myself about sluts like you, just like you shouldn't bother calling me anymore."

"There's no one better than me," she said haughtily, her slim eyebrows knitted together as she watched Syaoran finish dressing. She sat on her bed in muted shock as he strode out the bedroom door before she finally realized what was going on. "B-baby," she stuttered finally, risking a weak smile. "You're not serious, are you?"

He didn't give her the courtesy of replying as he continued his way out of her mansion, even after hearing her infuriated growl pierce the night after he slammed the front door shut.

-v-V-v-

The clock resting on Syaoran's desk was ticking too loudly for her. Sakura scowled at it as it measured out the seconds with audible impertinence, and for a moment, she was sorely tempted to pick it up and hurl it through the large windows that made an entire wall of Syaoran's office, just to make some noise other than the taunting ticks and tocks.

"You wrote this?"

Syaoran had finally spoken after staring ages at the paper she had given him gingerly, snapping back as far as she could in her seat away from him.

"Did I surprise you with a new lower level of crap, Boss?" she retorted automatically, and then immediately regretted it.

As the silence resumed, her fingers twisted nervously in her lap; there was something about him that made her so damn nervous, it forced her to lash back, even toward his seemingly innocent questions. _It must have been the kiss_, she thought to herself chidingly, but deep down inside, she knew that he made her heart beat faster with a surge of adrenaline even before that. It was like the mere sight of him made her angry and raised her blood pressure.

Thankfully, he didn't make any mention about the kiss that inspired most, if not all, of the lyrics she wrote frantically the night before. She had belatedly realized she was taking a risk, bluntly titling her new proposal for the debut song _Kiss_, but she was already in front of his office.

"Do you have faith in these lyrics?"

Once more, the deep rumble of his husky voice broke the silence, and she glanced up in surprise.

"I wouldn't have written them if I had no faith," she replied with a newly achieved level of calm.

Syaoran was quiet for a moment, and Sakura steeled herself for another achingly long bout of silence, but it seemed that her answer satisfied him. "Go ahead then."

It took a full three seconds before the meaning of his words sunk into her.

"What?" she whispered, but already, a slow smile was spreading across her face. "You're not lying, right?"

He was already straightening out his desk and not answering, but she jumped up, and positively shouted, "You crazy bastard, you're not lying, right? I'm going to go through with it. No take-backs!"

She made a few steps toward the door, as though waiting for him to say "Just kidding, who would produce that piece of garbage?" but when he didn't reply, she reached over and hugged him hard around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried delightedly as she ran for the door.

"Although you didn't end up needing it as inspiration, I'm sure you wouldn't mind finding your paycheck already transferred into your bank account," he called out lazily after her.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Syaoran stopped stacking the mess of papers on his desk and sat back into his chair, swiveling it so that it positioned to the view of the city past his large glass windows.

"Such potential," he smiled to himself as the sunlight sparkled down over his chocolate brown locks.

-v-V-v-

"No. Freaking. Way."

Tomoyo and Meilin were both in shock as Sakura sat them down and excitedly told them the details of the morning.

"So _then_ what happened?" Meilin prodded as Tomoyo was still coping with the fact that they now had twenty million dollars at their leisure.

"So _I_ said…" Sakura began delightedly, and then faltered. "Oh God, Meilin, I called him a crazy bastard."

"You _what_?" Tomoyo was suddenly animate again.

"Why would you _say_ that?" Meilin wailed.

"I- I don't know! I was just so sure he was lying, and it just…" Sakura gasped.

"Let's get this song done before he changes his mind then," Tomoyo groaned.

Meilin nodded emphatically as the three girls dashed desperately toward the piano room to practice their new song.

-v-V-v-

**And so it begins! Syaoran doesn't seem to have changed so much from his "rich jerk" lifestyle. Is Sakura another target of his lust? Do _you_** **have faith in Sakura's lyrics? How will the public react? So much to know, all in the next chapter!**


	4. Closer

**The reviews for the past few chapters have been increasing steadily. 6 reviews for the first, 9 reviews for the second, and 12 reviews for the third chapter. Should I be expecting 18 reviews for the fourth? But thank you guys so much for your reviews! They're a real encouragement and guilt trip when I'm on the verge of chucking the entire thing out the window. **

**Japanese Lessons:  
****-sama – the suffix used on people to respect, like idols  
****Sugoii – really awesome**

**-v-V-v-**

"5-6-7-8!" the music coach Yoshiyuki Terada bellowed the count as Meilin, Tomoyo, and Sakura all moved in unison in the center of their dance studio in similar black tights and brightly colored sleeveless tanks, each wearing their signature color of red, violet, and pink respectively. They meticulously watched their reflections for mistakes, seeking perfection in their newly choreographed routine.

"Pick up the slack girls, I want more pop!"

After getting the okay from Syaoran, the next two weeks swept by Sakura in a whirlwind of activity. The girls' schedule became packed with practices and photo shoots to promote their upcoming debut concert. Although they had been cooped up in the house for the majority of the time, no one was antsy to go outside; they were too exhausted by the end of Terada's grueling drills to do anything other than collapse into bed. The first few days were hardest for Sakura, who had begun to debate whether or not putting up with the dogmatic Terada was a better alternative to dealing with the egotistical prince Syaoran. Nevertheless, after getting used to the exercise routines, not only did their dance talents develop to a higher level, but they had more stamina to sing properly without gasping for breath in the middle of a routine, and that made Sakura completely at ease with not having to see Syaoran's face for the following weeks.

At least, that was the thought that Sakura held firmly in her mind until the day of the first photo shoot, when Syaoran had appeared behind the throng of cameramen, photographers, and makeup personnel.

"Look this way, please, Sakura-sama!" cried the joyous photographer, Jacob, who always wore a brilliantly colored silk scarf around his neck to complement his sandy brown spiked hair, sometimes even changing it throughout the course of the day.

Sakura peeled her eyes away from Syaoran, who seemed to be gloating from his spot leaning against the opposite wall of the studio as he watched his investments pose in similar fashions fit for Catholic high school princesses. She forced a bright smile to Jacob, whose camera was snapping in a frenetic manner. Finally, after what felt like an eternity baking under the spotlights, he called for them to gather at the middle of the room for a meeting.

"Well done!" he chirped proudly, rocking back and forth on his feet. "I have taken the liberty of uploading the pictures to the computer to get a preview of my masterpieces!"

With grand flourish, he tapped a key on the keyboard and the girls crowded around the monitor to see the slideshow.

After a long moment, Tomoyo screeched, "What the hell is this?"

Indeed, none of them knew _what_ was in front of them. The pictures were mostly blurred, and the ones that were clear were either shot too closely or captured the most inopportune expressions, particularly on Meilin's as she sneezed.

"Isn't it _wonderful_?" Jacob gushed as he fawned over a particularly devastating shot of Sakura's ear. "My best work yet, I daresay!"

"You… I thought you dealt with the photo shoots for many celebrities!" Yamazaki spluttered as he looked over their shoulders. "You listed Ayumi Hamasaki on your website!"

"Well, that's true! The big-shot photographers took pictures in my _fabulous_ studio here, and I decided to pick up some more cash by trying my hand at it, because it didn't look so hard, and I was right! Easy peasy!" he grinned widely before Yamazaki threw himself at him and pummeled him unconscious.

"I'm sorry, girls," Yamazaki panted as he wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his lip, leaving Jacob's badly beaten body slumped against the wall. "This is entirely my fault."

"What are we going to do? We needed these pictures out by tomorrow for the advertising committee," Meilin fretted.

"I'll take the pictures."

Syaoran's voice came from behind them as he stepped out of the fray with his usual smug smirk across his lips, elegantly dressed in a dark suit with his crisp white shirt's top few buttons opened, his hands casually in his pockets. "I'd have a better idea than anyone else on what image these girls are to have, anyway."

"S-sir?" Yamazaki stuttered, clearly unaware that he was there at the photo shoot.

"We're not so desperate to ask _you_ for anything just yet," Sakura's voice dripped icily.

There was a pregnant pause as it finally sunk into her that the situation _was_ that desperate. It was far too late to contact a proper photographer, and as Meilin reminded her with a painful pinch, the pictures had to be done within the few hours of day left.

"Fine, but I'm taking a break," Sakura muttered reluctantly. "I'm tired after all that pseudo-posing for that pseudo-photographer."

"Agreed, I'll need time to set up here anyway," Syaoran smiled with an infuriating calm toward her.

Sakura stomped off toward the small trailer the girls shared and grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge in the corner. She collapsed onto the orange sofa and took a grateful swig, ignoring the few drops that missed her lips and splashed down on her uniform. She glared at her reflection in the mirror across from her, her straight honey-brown locks neatly pushed back by a small, rhinestone-encrusted tiara. Her skin was pallid, and her full pouty lips were painted in a shade of coral that made her look even more like a barely legal whore. Sneering, she rubbed off the lipstick with the back of her hand when there was a knock on the trailer door.

"Go away!" she shouted, but of course, the door swung open anyway.

She was more furious with the fact that it was Syaoran, who promptly shut the door behind him as he walked in. "Get out," she muttered tersely, her hands clenching into fists automatically over her plaid pink miniskirt, silently cursing him as his mere presence made her heart pump faster, her anger incensed.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to your boss?" he grinned as he rudely took a seat next to her on the couch. "Or in this case, the person who's going to adjust your image?"

"I don't need an image change," she grumbled, but once more, she found herself pressed against his lips, forced into a more compromising position under him on the couch.

His hands roughly slid higher along the white thigh-high stockings and under her skirt, and as she tried to open her mouth to scream, he silenced her with his tongue, wrapping it skillfully against hers and transforming the scream into an unwilling moan. She melted against the crushing power of his arms that pinned her down, and was slowly ignoring the dimming shriek of her conscience in her mind as she felt her blouse open a few notches, faintly aware of his knee parting her legs.

And as suddenly as the kiss had started, it stopped.

She breathed heavily for a moment, and then opened her eyes, blinking as Syaoran's laughing amber eyes came into focus above her before she remembered, a shock of searing pink crossing her cheeks as she sat up with some difficulty. Instantly, she hated herself for letting her body's desires cloud her mind, and indignantly pushed Syaoran, who was already sitting up next to her.

"What the hell is your problem?" she spat disgustedly.

"You looked delicious as an innocent school girl, but I need you to look sexy," he chuckled in his usual husky candor, tilting his head toward her mirror.

She followed his gesture and her emerald eyes widened with surprise. She gazed back at her reflection, but did not recognize the fair-skinned girl whose cheeks were blushed with the passion of the kiss, her ruby lips similarly swollen and glistening. The small crown was tilted at an angle in her long, slightly mussed locks, the buttons on her blouse opened to expose a more enticing view, and even her stockings had a few runs in long, circular holes along her shapely legs. She frowned slightly at her reflection; she looked like every pervert's dream.

He stood, and extended his hand to her in silence. She stared at it mutely before realizing what it was for, and slapped it away, choosing instead to slide off the couch herself. She got to her feet well enough, but stumbled as she took her first step, her knees still weak; it didn't help her embarrassment that Syaoran was laughing as his arms slipped into place around her hips to support her, holding her steady as she swore vividly in her mind.

"Fuck you," she grumbled as she pushed him away and tottered her way to the trailer door, intending to leave his side as soon as possible.

"Sugoiiiiiii!"

Tomoyo and Meilin both gazed up at Sakura with identical looks in their starry eyes, their hands clasped with pleasure under their chins, the ultimate picture of awe and admiration. Behind them stood what seemed to be the entirety of the studio's workers, even down to the janitors. There were a few moments of silence as every pair of eyes were glued to Sakura's new look, punctuated by a few spurting nosebleeds toward the back.

"The fuck?" Sakura uttered stupidly in surprise as she stared back at them all.

"I give you the new image I want for Fallen Angels. Tomoyo, copy it," Syaoran grinned as he appeared behind Sakura, who was still frozen halfway out of the trailer door.

Tomoyo nodded quickly as she and Meilin dashed off to replicate the seductive air as Sakura whirled to Syaoran, and punched him in the shoulder with renewed strength.

"You asshole, you did that just for _this_?" she hissed under her breath.

"Did you think I liked you then?" he laughed, her blow merely glancing off his toned chest.

The rest of the photo shoot seemed to go by more smoothly to Sakura, and by that, she meant that Syaoran did not try to kiss her in the middle of posing. However, he seemed to enjoy his empowered hold over her, and relished making her aware of it.

"Make love to me," he grinned sardonically to her.

Sakura's blush shot back into her face as the camera clicked quickly, capturing the transition from the surprised look to the cold glare she gave him before he laughed in reply, "Make love to me through the camera. I want to see more seduction, ladies."

Sakura was grateful the shoot was finally over, and desperately wanted nothing more than to go straight home to shower and sleep, but the dream was postponed by Tomoyo and Meilin who were excitedly gasping over Jacob's lime iMac.

"Look at this one, Tomoyo!" Meilin cried delightedly as her finger jabbed at various spots on the screen.

"I think this is the best one!" Tomoyo grinned as Sakura emerged casually dressed from the trailer in her street clothes, a sunshine yellow tank and denim jeans, and appeared behind them.

"What's going on?" Sakura murmured softly as she hugged Tomoyo from behind, her chin resting over Tomoyo's long dark locks.

"Syaoran is _such_ a pro," Tomoyo grinned as she clicked through more files. "You don't even look as stiff as you normally do when you take pictures, Sakura."

Sakura giggled in spite of herself, remembering having to take pictures for the Twilight Den's poster. Not only was Sakura so uncomfortable and self-conscious, but the pictures visually proved it. As Tomoyo opened the files of the individual shots, Sakura couldn't help but be impressed. Syaoran had managed to capture her every hateful glare she gave him throughout the shoot, and to her surprise, even every light blush as her mind had drifted to the kiss. She was even more stunned at the poses she hadn't realized she was making, including one of her leaning forward at the waist with her hands at her parted knees, the tip of her tongue peeking out to lick her lips, a salacious glare staring back at her.

"When did I do that?" she wondered out loud.

"Probably when that guy brought pizza and Syaoran wouldn't let us have any until the shoot was over," Meilin sighed sadly. "He's really a hard-ass at times."

"More like when Syaoran was standing right in front of her," Tomoyo added teasingly. "He must have made her desperately hungry after _that_ incident."

"You guys saw that?" Sakura asked, a surprised blush returning to her color her cheeks.

"Saw what?" Tomoyo asked suspiciously. "I was still talking about him not letting us eat the pizza, hence your glare. What are _you_ talking about?"

"Oh, uh…" Sakura began intelligently, floundering for an excuse.

"Did something happen between you and Syaoran?" Meilin narrowed her eyes as she searched Sakura's increasingly flushed face.

"Oy! Are you guys planning on camping out here?" Yamazaki called from the car.

"Oh, it's time to go home!" Sakura smiled brightly as she dashed for the silver convertible, her friends protesting for details as they chased after her.

-v-V-v-

It wasn't long before the girls were plunging headlong into their first debut concert, opening for the ever-popular Touya. They were releasing their single immediately after to match Angel's Kiss's release date. In hindsight, Sakura was amazed at how much they had accomplished within the course of the month. The publicity committee had outdone itself, and the particularly vulgar pose of Sakura leaning forward had been splashed onto several billboards and papered walls around the city, much to her embarrassment. The news of the debut concert had also generated a lot of controversial media buzz, debating who would win the battle as best female trio between Angel's Kiss and Fallen Angels. It brought a lot of pressure on Sakura, who had only just completed her lyric writing and recording for the rest of the CD, and was now desperately wishing to change some of the songs.

Backstage with a few minutes until show time, Sakura was antsy with the absence of Tomoyo and Meilin, who had decided that it was the opportune time for a joint bathroom break, leaving her bouncing around in place on her feet offstage. She could hear the excited roar of the crowd that had bought all the tickets within the literal span of ten minutes, and it was making her stomach churn.

"Nervous?"

Sakura turned immediately to the husky voice, but was pleasantly surprised to find that it was not who she was expecting. She smiled bravely to the dark lanky figure.

"No, not really," she nodded to Touya, who was already dressed in his costume, a long black tunic accented with silver and matching pants.

"The first time's always the worst… for a lot of things," he chuckled.

Sakura laughed appreciably after taking a full minute to absorb the full meaning of the perverse joke and immediately felt better.

"It's just that first impressions make a huge difference in a career like this," Sakura confessed finally.

"Oh, I know what you mean. I've read the papers about you and Angel's Kiss," he nodded in understanding. "But, it didn't stop me when I had to face my rival, Yukito."

"That's different," she argued. "You're actually good. Just last month, I was so… _amateur_."

She despised herself for using that word, but she had no choice. Syaoran's words had stung that night, but everything he had said was true, and she had forced herself to accept it as constructive criticism and better herself.

"Before my first CD came out, I had a lot of raw talent, but it was very unpolished. Kaho is responsible for making me what I am today," he smiled reassuringly. "We all develop, Sakura, but the important thing is to never forget your roots."

She shuddered involuntarily, thinking about the Twilight Den, but it was immediately replaced by the thought of her mother, and her fingers slipped to her throat, playing with the silver locket that hung there.

"I won't forget…" she whispered softly as Meilin and Tomoyo made their appearance next to her.

"Time to get this party started," Meilin grinned excitedly as they got into position behind the stage wall that would slide open.

"I won't forget," Sakura smiled to Touya before he disappeared to the side.

The doors slid apart and Sakura rushed to the screaming crowd that welcomed her with open arms.

-v-V-v-

**Whoo, another chapter done! Although I pride myself in writing stories in which something always happens for a reason, I'll admit that this chapter is just a mite fluff. Erotic fluff, but fluff nonetheless. With that out of the way, I'd like to insert some hype for my next chapter, which I am absolutely excited about. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters, and to promote this enthusiasm among the fans, I'd like to announce my first ever contest, specifically designed for signed-in reviewers (sorry! I'm waging war against anonymous reviewers)!**

**What makes the next chapter special is that it will feature for the first time, the lyrics to the highly anticipated _Kiss_. Unfortunately, I'm absolutely abysmal at writing lyrics, so this is where you come in: **

**Write up song lyrics befitting a song titled _Kiss_. Keep in mind on what Syaoran (and I) likes. Explosive, hot, sexy, but not sleazy should all be words that describe your lyrics. **

**Contest rules: **

**1. Must be original. No copy pasting lyrics from someone else, either famous or another fanfiction. **

**2. Can be either in Japanese romaji (please include translations!) or English. **

**3. SIGN IN when you review with a quick review and a note saying you're applying. If you think I'm being a review whore, which I am, also add a note saying you'd like that review deleted after I verify your email address. It's just a precaution against people who, for some reason, might want to submit something under another username. **

**4. Deadline is a full 48 hours from uploading this chapter. Hey, Sakura had less time to write for Syaoran. **

**5. Email all entries to before the deadline. Don't forget to include your username so I know who to credit. **

**And every great contest comes with its prizes: **

**First prize: besides having your lyrics being featured in the next chapter, you will have a choice of either a spoiler of the following chapter through an outline, or a few drawings I made on Paint that inspired this fiction**

**Second prize: whatever the first prize winner didn't want. **

**And every entry will get a consolation prize: a list of interesting behind-the-scenes trivia about this fiction. **

**I know the prizes aren't fantastic, but it's really geared toward the die-hard fans I'm hoping I've spawned somehow. So, good luck! You have until July 31, 2005, 11:25 am EST!**


	5. Friends

**Ahem, a small thing to clear up. I was hyping up a certain scene, but I realized to get to that scene, where you hear the lyrics for the first time, there was a certain chain of events that had to happen first. I was trying to squish it in this one, but it just wouldn't do the chapter justice, so that's why this chapter is a bit short, yet it took so long. Next chapter. Fluff. Lots of it. I promise. **

**Don't kill me. **

**Japanese Lessons:  
****Kanpei – Cheers!**

**-v-V-v-**

The entire penthouse floor of the Grand Regency Hotel was rented out to host the huge celebratory bash thrown by Guilty Pleasures in honor of Fallen Angels narrowly beating Angel's Kiss record-breaking sales, and was filled with the hollow pop of Cristal bottles being uncorked and crackle of noisemakers to signify the beginning of the gala event. Raucous laughter filled the air to the pounding beat provided by DJ Spinel, whom the girls had invited for old time's sake. Kero was similarly invited, but did not have to man the bar counter; he chose to do a fast number with Meilin on the dance floor instead.

In a show of good sportsmanship, select celebrities from Pure Hearts Studios were also added on the guest list, among which included Angel's Kiss (Chiharu, Riika, and Naoko), Yukito, and Eriol. And so it happened, that in the midst of mingling, Riika was chatting amiably with the vocal coach Terada, and Chiharu was avidly listening to Yamazaki, who was desperately seeking to impress her with his regaling stories of hunting for the Loch Ness Monster off the coast of Japan, where it was claimed to have been seen having a spot of tea with Godzilla.

Touya mostly scowled from his corner, shooting daggers with his eyes at Yukito (Yukito had beaten Touya's sales), who merely smiled brightly in return, most likely under the impression that Touya fancied him. Syaoran had thankfully not made his appearance yet, and Sakura, seeing that Tomoyo was deeply absorbed in conversation with Eriol by the buffet line, chose to stand near Touya, who had, to Meilin's intense delight and jealousy, gradually become a close friend. Despite all the media speculation that they were more than such, Sakura vehemently denied all allegations, saying that Touya was much more of an older brother figure in her life. Still, she could understand the public's surprise at the "siblings" of the industry; despite the racy billboards and sexy promos, Sakura had maintained a relatively sweet image compared to the dark, lustful soul of Touya.

"I bought your CD after the concert," he told her quietly after throwing another disgusted look at the back of Yukito's head.

She grinned broadly, trying her best to downplay her pride. "I'm glad you enjoyed our performance."

"Are you kidding me? With an hour of all that shrieking and wailing from a monster, how could I not be amazed?" he snickered.

The smile slid off her face like old molasses, and she mumbled something to the effect of, "I am _not_ a monster," but that only seemed to make him laugh louder.

"Who was your inspiration?"

Sakura shot a guilty glance to him, her face a violent shade of red as she feared he already knew the answer, but he was casually looking around the room, leaning against the wall with one foot propped against it. She cleared her throat uneasily before replying.

"Just this guy I know," she grumbled.

"Just a guy?" His tone held more of a note of knowing than interest, but she plowed onward anyway, her hands clenched into tight fists.

"I don't think he'll ever realize how egotistical he is," she harrumphed. "He'll probably think it adds to his charm, and God knows he doesn't have much of a personality otherwise. Even just the mere _sight_ of him gets my blood pumping faster, almost nauseated with anger—"

"Your heart beats faster around him?" Touya finally turned to look at her with mild amusement.

"Hoe?" Sakura paused mid-rant and blinked up at him. "Don't say it like that," she frowned.

"Well, given the context of the lyrics, anyone would say you were in love with him," Touya grinned slyly, but Sakura was too absorbed in her own stunned world to notice. There was no way she was in love with such a brat, right?

"Ah, speaking of bastards, here are my favorite ones right now," Touya scowled as he looked at the entrance.

Sakura turned and saw Jin stride in fashionably late next to Syaoran, both men sharply dressed in casual slacks and crisp shirts. It didn't take long after Syaoran surveyed the scene with seemingly detached languor before a swarm of leggy models hooked their claws into his white blazer and swept him away in a cloud of intoxicating perfume.

"Oh hell," she breathed and tried to mimic Touya's black and crimson outfit camouflaging into the shadows, but it was to her grave misfortune that the flamingo pink sequined butterfly halter Tomoyo forced her to wear was like a homing beacon to Jin.

Impressively, Jin was not as inebriated as he had been with Sakura on previous occasions. He greeted her with a proffered drink, which she accepted with little grace. Touya snorted as he cast his suspicious eye over him.

"What do you want?" Touya grunted, finally rolling his eyes away disgustedly.

"Well, you're looking pretty tonight. Want to dance?" Jin smoothly ignored him and faced Sakura.

"I'd rather dance with Yukito," Touya drawled lazily, answering in her stead.

"I'll take you up on that offer, To-ya," Yukito smiled brightly as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

And before he could violently protest, Yukito's deceivingly slim arms had wrapped tightly around his lean, muscular ones, and Touya was stunned to find he could not break out of his grip. He cast one, terrified look at Sakura as he was helplessly dragged away toward the dance floor, leaving Sakura smothering her giggles in the drink Jin brought her. She blinked in surprise at the smooth flavor that immediately seemed to loosen all her muscles.

"What is this?" she murmured as she held it up to the flashing strobe lights, trying to peer through its murky amber tone.

"Just a rum and coke," he nodded with a distinct nonchalance. "I watched your music video the other day. You looked might fine."

"Thank you. This must be pretty strong," she wondered out loud as she gestured to the drink before taking a longer sip, slightly embarrassed with her low tolerance for liquor.

"Those are the best ones," he agreed, misinterpreting her flushed cheeks and starry eyes for delight.

"Yummy," she murmured as she licked her lips, draining the glass. "Get me another one, please."

"Eh?" Jin turned to her with surprise, and she thrust the squat cup under his nose.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and after a while, she finally snorted and pushed him away, intending to get her own drink. Finally coming out of his reverie, he chased after her, jostling the crowd of couples on the dance floor.

On the other side of the room, Syaoran was watching with muted interest as Sakura loudly complained that the bartender was taking too long, and proceeded to mix up her own concoctions. The miffed bartender stood to the side as the sparklers flared and the silver tumbler flashed in her slender fingers like a lightning snake. A few bystanders clapped with approval as she poured out her new, colorful drink, and it only further encouraged her to make herself at home and serve the entire room with a variety of very strong alcoholic drinks.

"Kanpei!" she cheered victoriously, raising her glass high in the air as the bartender wailed in frustration behind her, her high-heeled Manolo Blahniks scratching the black marble counter as she posed on it.

"Kanpei!" the growing crowd roared back, laughing loudly as they tipped the glasses back.

And so the night continued, but eventually, the alcohol affected Sakura's rush, and a few hours later, she was half-snoozing on Jin's shoulder, a partially emptied bottle of whiskey clutched tightly within her left hand, occasionally bursting into a sporadic cry of "Kanpei!" before settling down again. The crowd also seemed to have thinned drastically with the waning of Sakura's energy. The only people left behind were the extremely drunk, among which included Touya, who was necking with Yukito and Kaho in a private booth. Syaoran was comfortably leaning back in his own booth, a sloppy mess of beautiful girls smoking sleepily across the table, their thin cigarettes slowly turning into long, untouched pillars of ash in their fingers. (_A/N: Remember, kids, drugs are bad!) _He poured himself another shot of tequila, and looked up to see a cheery looking Yamazaki.

"Have you seen Sakura?" he slurred sleepily. "Tomoyo and Meilin are asleep in the cab outside, and I figured I'd ship them home together."

He gave him a cursory gaze before he looked over to where he had seen her last by the bar counter, but Sakura had already disappeared along with Jin. He maintained his poker face, but stood up quickly, leaving a bemused Yamazaki to tend with the rousing models as he pushed them out of his way, briskly striding outside. The chill night air was enough to sober him slightly, but it was all he needed to easily locate Jin's silver convertible. As he neared the car in the lot, his thoughts were confirmed when he saw that the black canvas top was up. In a flowing, swift move, he opened the driver's side door and dragged Jin's muscled build out and administered a hard punch to the face before he had a chance to cry out.

"What the fuck? Syaoran?" Jin swore loudly, nursing his bleeding lip as Syaoran gazed over Sakura, who was sleeping in the front passenger seat.

Syaoran's fist tightened as he noticed her halter top's knot loosened at the base of her neck and threw his white blazer over her slim shoulders. He wound his left arm snugly around her waist before aiming a high kick at Jin's chest as he managed to stand again. Jin grunted with the pain, and groveled for a moment on the ground, doubled over as he stood over him and breathed hard, glaring at him. Jin spat a bit of blood and sat back on his heels, finally lifting his shaggy blonde head at him.

"Eager for first dibs?" Jin chuckled weakly. "A little rum goes a long way. Send her back to me when you're done."

Bad move. Syaoran kept Sakura behind him as he placed a roundhouse kick on Jin's jaw. Jin groaned louder, and didn't bother to pick himself up off the gravel. Syaoran maneuvered her body around his and picked her up, cradling her in his arms with her knees hanging over his forearm, and turned to leave.

"I thought we were friends."

Jin finally spoke, a hollow tone to his words as he pulled himself up somewhat, but remained on the ground. Syaoran paused in his steps, but didn't turn his head.

"I thought we were friends," Jin repeated. "Friends have a code of honor among each other, Syaoran. You know that better than I do. I don't fuck with your women, and you don't fuck with mine. I chose her, Syaoran. God damn it, I _chose_ her."

Syaoran's silence only seemed to further enrage him.

"All night, Syaoran, you had a table full of beautiful women. I didn't even fucking talk to one of them, not even to say hello. Not even one fucking broad! I stayed the hell away from you because I was busy making sure other guys wouldn't take advantage of Sakura when she was drunk. What does that say to you, Syaoran?" Jin shouted angrily.

"She's mine," Syaoran said quietly.

"What?"

It was rapidly becoming a nightmare for Jin.

"Since we were kids, I never minded taking your leftovers. The Valentines Day chocolates the girls in class made for you, the ones that you threw away, I took them and told each girl how special it was to have homemade chocolates. I mended their broken hearts, but you could care less. You're spoiled, Syaoran. You're too used to always having first picks, but I never complained, not once! I'm begging you, just this once… Don't do this. Don't take the one fucking girl I actually fell in love with. Don't take her away from me," Jin whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

Syaoran knew Jin was telling the truth, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to hand over the peacefully sleeping form in his arms. Feeling the small burn of cowardice seep into him, he chose to walk away, but Jin didn't let it go.

"I love her, Syaoran!" Jin cried out. "Are you so selfish that you'd throw away our friendship over her? You have your choice of any woman in the world you want! Why her? Why does it have to be the girl I love?"

"I won't tell you again. Don't touch her, she's mine," Syaoran said coldly before walking away, and Jin was helpless to watch his best friend and love disappear together in the darkness that enveloped them.

**-v-V-v**

**I'm still picking which lyrics were the best. The submissions were all really good, and now it's just a matter of which fits the scene best, and I won't know that until I write it. I have a plan on what's going to happen, but sometimes, things change at the last minute in a gigantic flash of insight. If you want, I can extend the deadline to anytime before I upload the next chapter, and you can have multiple submissions. If you don't have a account, you can post your submission in your review. **


	6. Hostage Date

**Ah, I hate the idea of my readers having to put up with a long author's note, but it was unavoidable. Thank you for the continued reviews even though I took a (much) longer time to update. I had a lot of trouble making time to sit down and perfect this chapter because of back to school starting and work to deal with. I compensate your patience with a much longer chapter. XD**

**I thought I mentioned it before, but to make it clear: Fujitaka, Sakura and Touya are NOT related to each other in any way in this story. Neither are Syaoran and Meilin. I used Fujitaka and Clow to serve as foils to each other, in other words, opposites. The only familial relationships I kept were Sonomi being Tomoyo's mom, and Nadeshiko being Sakura's mother. That is why I don't mention their last names often. It's an idea I borrowed from CLAMP's Tsubasa Chronicles. **

**The latest reviews are awesome. A lot of people seemed to have picked up that a) Syaoran is a jerk, and b) Jin isn't so bad. Now before I get a horde of angry Syaoran-fans, let me just explain that I've created their personalities as such purposely. There is no such thing as a perfect person, and there is no such thing as a completely evil person. Aren't you guys tired of reading the same old stories where there's just a _complete_ bad guy after Sakura that Syaoran has to save? It was my intention to make the characters as human as possible. I like to think of Jin as just a really hot, easygoing pervert who would be great to hang out with on the weekends. He has his own fanbase, but he has also always been in Syaoran's shadow. And the guy can fall in love too, especially at the very least, puppy love for Sakura, one of the few girls who have ever turned him down. But he's a man, and he made a bad choice trying to sneak off with Sakura when she was drunk. **

**Another thing about my stories is that I like having round characters. By round, I don't mean fat. I'm talking about a character whose personality gradually changes throughout the course of the plot. It was really subtle last chapter, but Syaoran is slowly changing for the better. Like Jin said, Syaoran is spoiled, and he has to get used to the idea that he can't have his cake and eat it too. I think we can assume now that Sakura is his reason for changing, although he doesn't realize it yet. The only question that remains now is how much is he actually going to change?**

**One more note about this chapter: Black Visas are reserved only for A-list celebrities and have a no-limit spending amount. **

**Oh, and silly me. I almost forgot that this is the debut chapter! Firstly, congratulations to all the great entries. I had a hard time picking the winner, but only one truly fit the scene. Congratulations to ameri-chan for her winning lyrics, and second place NightMiko! Your prizes will be arriving shortly after updating.**

**-v-V-v-**

"Myurgh…" Sakura murmured softly, not bothering to wake up to the dazzling sunlight filtering through her eyelids.

Instead, she chose to clutch her pillow more tightly, wrapping her legs around the firm column and burying her head in the soft musk of spiced cedar. Her pillow seemed to oblige, but there was something so off, something that kept niggling at her subconscious, that it forced her to reluctantly open her eyes.

Sakura stared for a moment as the gears almost audibly clicked in her mind, registering the handsome profile just centimeters from hers. She blinked rapidly, as if hoping that the chocolate rumpled hair falling gracefully over the man's forehead as he slept was just a horrible, horrible dream, and almost forgot to breathe as she quite literally woke up to the realization that she had entwined herself tightly around his naked torso. She was stunned into a silence with the caution one takes when keeping a snoozing dragon blissfully asleep until he exhaled deeply before turning his peaceful, sunlit face toward hers and holding her lithe form comfortably closer against his chest. Then she shrieked.

"Hoooeeee!"

Syaoran's amber eyes snapped open in surprise as he instinctively jerked her away from his hold and promptly toppled off his bed, landing with a hoarse cry in an unceremonious heap of tangled gold silk sheets wrapped around his legs. Groaning, he pulled himself up and slapped a hand down on the edge of his bed, peering up at a pair of very round emerald pools just before Sakura attacked him with a _real_ pillow.

"Pervert!" she cried with each mini-explosion of feathers that bloomed into the air. "Dirty– smelly– awful – bastard!"

Despite not being fully awake and disoriented by the blood-curdling scream that jolted him into some consciousness, Syaoran was able to automatically defend himself with his arms crossed and raised over his head. Finally, he snarled and retaliated, snatching the pillow away from her as he, in one swift move, leapt onto the bed and pinned her down under him with a wild ferocity that took her by surprise. The moment was encapsulated in a pregnant pause as they stared at each other breathing heavily, punctuated by Sakura's soft grunts as she squirmed minimally under him to break free, but he didn't seem to notice, his iron-clad grip firmly cinched around her wrists above her head. Sakura finally glared up at him, and that seemed to register some familiarity in his surprised face, the events of the night before finally breaking through his slight hangover.

He chuckled and released her suddenly, slipping off her body as he slumped back to the side and ruffled his long tangled hair. She immediately huddled into the furthest corner of the feather mattress, wrapping the satin sheets tightly around her as she peeked over the edge. He slid off the bed and shuffled toward the other end of the room to slide the large glass balcony doors open. Between the billowing sheer white sheets that fluttered around him, he was bathed in the blue Pacific's fresh wind and glittering sunlight. He stretched, and the bare muscles of his body rippled through his taut skin like a golden jaguar's. Sakura colored when she saw he was only wearing his black silk pajama pants, but the blush soon dissipated as her gaze drifted to her unfamiliar surroundings, an opulent chamber of sheer white and gold brocade fabric.

"Where am I?" she winced, clutching her head as the screeching seagulls triggered a sudden migraine, the beginning of her fantastic hangover. "And where are my clothes?" she said loudly with some alarm after a moment, realizing she was wearing a thin, flowing silk chemise and matching shorts of palest gold that stopped high up her slender thighs.

Despite her throbbing headache, she wracked her brains for a clue as to what happened the night before, but came up empty. The last thing she remembered was dancing on the bar counter with a bottle of vodka.

"We're at one of my summer homes near the shore. My butler, Wei, despises filth. He would not allow such clothing to remain in the sanctity of the house and disposed of them. I had enough trouble getting _you_ past the front door," Syaoran said nonchalantly as he moved around his room, picking up a hunter green satin robe and slipping it on.

"Filth?" Sakura almost screamed with frustration and bit down on her tongue to remain calm. "Tomoyo made me that outfit. What am I supposed to wear then?"

He picked up a shopping bag that had been on the small glass and white marble table, and threw it at her. The Prada name glowed in simple modest white on the black paper, and after a quick perusal of the bag's contents, Sakura was slightly mollified to see the trendy ruffled white miniskirt and off-the-shoulder pink wrap top; she was then promptly mortified to see that a new pink bra and panty set was also provided in her size.

"Wei made arrangements to have it delivered by this morning. You're here to avoid attracting too much attention in the media. It would be bad to suddenly end your career with a scandal after such great sales," he added, breaking into her thoughts as he continued on his path toward a door.

"Scandal?"

Sakura blinked in confusion and then flushed horribly. She hurriedly fumbled with the sheets and carried them with her like a ballgown gone wrong, shuffling up to him as he paused by the door, watching her with interest.

"I um… Last night, we… We didn't do anything, did we?" she asked hopefully, a bit flustered with the sensitivity of the topic.

Syaoran grinned, flashing his white teeth that made many other girls swoon, but it struck a chord of horror within Sakura.

"You were very wild, much wilder than I ever expected," he chuckled with devilish mischief at her ashen face, recalling her drunken bartending performance.

He opened the door, but she stopped him, catching his wrist as she attempted to give him a piece of her mind, but he cut her off, finally becoming bored with her endless questions. "Did you want to share the shower?" he asked with feigned innocence.

She retracted her hand as though she had been burned, and turned away from him to hide the fresh shock of pink across her cheeks. Smirking victoriously, Syaoran pushed past her as she stood to the side and entered the bathroom, but she stopped him from closing the door. He glanced down at her as she remained motionless, her gaze unreadable as she kept her head bowed, her palm against the smooth white wood of the door.

"What is it now?" he frowned, rubbing his forehead with irritation.

"Yes," she said suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"You asked if I wanted to share the shower," she stated more confidently as she pushed breezily past him. "My answer is yes, I want to share it."

Caught speechless, Syaoran watched her turn on the water for the tub, messing around with a few bottles of fragrant oils in the basket by the side.

"Hey, that's a $500 bottle!" he finally managed to yell, reaching out belatedly as she dumped half of its contents into the swirling hot water.

She didn't seem as upset as Syaoran and she finally stood up, walking up the black marble steps to the large porcelain basin of the bathtub. She crossed her arms, cinched her fingers on the short hem of the tank, and made a move to pull it over her head. Syaoran pivoted immediately on his heel, scandalized as he turned away from her.

"What are you doing?" he growled over his shoulder.

"Taking a bath, what do you think? Come on in, lover; the water's fine," Sakura drawled lazily.

"Nothing happened last night!" he finally shouted in exasperation. "You were so drunk, you didn't even want to let go of me when I tried to leave you in your room. _You _were the one who brought this on yourself!"

"Really?"

Syaoran was almost annoyed with her excited and hopeful tone. Even though nothing had happened, she should have been as honored as his past flings.

"Yes!" he cried, but she stopped him from ranting on further as she tapped his shoulder.

Surprised, he whirled around to see her smirking face, still fully clothed in the pajamas Wei had prepared.

"My hangover isn't _that _bad to realize my panties are still on. So, would you mind leaving?" she grinned triumphantly as she pushed him out the door, clutching the Prada bag closer to herself as the door slammed in Syaoran's face, and the lock clicked with a note of finality.

**-v-V-v-**

Sakura sighed as she tried to make herself as comfortable as she could in the black leather seats of the limo, but it was hard to do so with Syaoran's stacks of paperwork taking up most of the space. Glowering, she shot Syaoran another loathsome glare, recalling the events after her shower. Although she had successfully exacted her revenge for his misleading lie, he retaliated as she should have expected of his egoistic personality: he absolutely refused to help her further.

Eager to be anywhere but near Syaoran, she had overlooked the fact that she needed a car to go back home. Her ATM and credit cards had vanished along with her purse, probably having left it in the possession of Tomoyo and Meilin the night before. Even her cell phone betrayed her when its batteries died seconds after she started dialing her home number. A smug Syaoran took full advantage of the situation and while she was still thunderstruck that everything that possibly could have gone wrong _went_ wrong, exacerbated her dilemma. He not only gave strict orders to all his servants to not loan her any cash, but she was barred from the phones and breakfast; she spent an entire hour openly drooling at Syaoran as he calmly munched his morning toast over the newspaper, a steaming cup of _café au lait_ by his side. Fully irritated, Sakura followed him in his limousine as he left for work, and he curtly told her that because she was such a _child_, he could not be bothered to change his schedule around for her. Thus, he concluded, he would arrange to have her sent home whenever he was free. In the meantime, she would have to tolerate following him around like a stray puppy. Naturally, that made her all the more furious, but she had no choice.

She expected him to head straight to the office, but he already had plans to pick up go shopping. Sprawling with unladylike grace on the white sofas of the Armani stores, she watched him model through half of the most expensive fashions available, and ordered them delivered to his home. Admittedly, that was one of the easier tasks that she had to deal with. She was rather surprised at how good everything looked on him, but she couldn't decide if that made him more desirable, or more infuriating.

The car finally stopped in front of a tall steel and glass building, breaking into her thoughts, and she glanced upwards in surprise as the chauffeur held the door open by Syaoran's side expectantly. Syaoran briskly stepped out, and Sakura slid over to follow suit, but Syaoran conveniently shut the door in her face. Growling, she opened the door and blinked rapidly in the bright sunshine. She would rather have stayed outside and simply stared at the breathtaking skyscraper, but Syaoran was already entering through the revolving doors, and she did not want to lose her only ticket out of the unfamiliar area. She sighed, and chased after him as quickly as she could in her high heels.

Marching into the spacious lobby, she saw him duck into an elevator before the doors closed. She blinked in confusion, but her puzzled countenance was soon replaced with a wicked grin. She turned sweetly to the front desk receptionist and smiled brightly, clearing her throat for her attention. The young platinum-blonde woman glanced up over her scarlet horn-rimmed spectacles, and smiled just as falsely back.

"Hi, I seem to have lost my way, and I was wondering if I could just borrow your phone please?" Sakura beamed.

"I'm sorry, miss. We were instructed to not let you near our phones," the woman smiled, her aqua eyes never looking more placid.

Sakura's smile immediately melted into a frown.

"What the hell are you talking about? This isn't Guilty Pleasures. Syaoran's not your boss here," Sakura fumed.

"No, this is a marketing firm," she replied cheerily. "Mr. Li is responsible for providing Japan's top idols for advertising the newest products, and it wouldn't do us very good to upset him, would it?

"B-but I'm Sakura," she mumbled stupidly, feeling the world crumble into insanity around her. "You know, of Fallen Angels?

"I know exactly who you are, ma'am, and that is why we are not allowed to help you. If you'd like, you can wait for Mr. Li on the twelfth floor," the receptionist smiled benignly, ending the conversation.

"Your fake lashes are too long," Sakura snapped hatefully and because she easily preferred death over spending more time with Syaoran, she traipsed off to sulk by the comfortable couches in the lobby.

Slumped over on the beige leather, she plotted every possible answer out of the situation, and had even, in a state of despair, thought to beg for a quarter outside the building for a phone booth, but she realized that it would probably be more damaging to her career to have the headlines splashed with rumors that Fallen Angels was going bankrupt.

As the hours slowly ticked by, Sakura grew restless and resigned herself to head up to the twelfth floor. The bell chimed as the elevator reached the lobby, but when the doors slid open, she was surprised to see Syaoran flanked by an entourage of men in suits and a beautiful woman dressed in a gold lamé halter and black pants she recognized as Katrina Kawashima, one of the top models in the country.

"… and Aoyama-sensei said I could star in the next commercial for Fujisaki phones!" Katrina simpered as she reached for his arm, linking hers around it closely. When he did not bother to remove himself from her grip, she smiled, and clung to it all the more lecherously. "It really must have been fate for you to have a meeting with Aoyama-sensei right after me. I knew we were meant for each other."

Katrina paused as they stepped out of the elevator but stopped, and she glanced over at Sakura, who frowned at Syaoran.

"Stalking me, Sakura?" Syaoran said off-handedly.

"Like hell I would," she blurted. "What took you so long?"

"Syaoran, who is this?" Katrina interrupted petulantly as she tightened her grip against his shoulder.

"Sakura, this is Katrina Kawashima. Katrina, this is Sakura of Fallen Angels. I'm surprised she even needed an introduction, Katrina. Their records have been very popular," Syaoran smiled lightly with the air of a proud father.

"Oh, so you work for him?" Katrina sneered. "Really, Syaoran, I can't be bothered about _every_ one-hit wonder in the business."

"Excuse me?" Sakura began hotly, but Syaoran wisely interjected.

"Perhaps we should look up a hotel, Syaoran? I'm awfully exhausted, and I need my beauty sleep if I want to make Aoyama-sensei happy," Katrina yawned falsely.

"You need all the beauty sleep you can get," Sakura growled, but Syaoran's evil twinkle had returned in his eyes.

"It's only noon, Katrina, but perhaps we can find a hotel in the area. Of course, Sakura would have to come with us," Syaoran chuckled.

There were a few moments of dead silence as Sakura snapped her gaze away from Katrina's loathsome face toward Syaoran's.

"What?" Sakura finally spluttered.

"Ménage á trois, Syaoran?" Katrina smiled nervously, her voice dubious. "I had no idea you were into such things."

"I think not," Sakura said coldly before turning to him. "Send me home."

"I will when the opportunity presents itself," he replied languidly. "For now, I'm in the mood for some lunch. There's a hotel in the area that makes very appetizing French cuisine for a lunch special in their restaurant. In fact, I've heard that the head chef there is opening a chain of restaurants in the fall. Perhaps you've heard of the Canon restaurant?"

Sakura's interest piqued at the sound of the fancy restaurant's name, but she soon lost her appetite when she saw his smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, remembering that she had little choice but to follow.

"Mou, Syaoran, take me too!" Katrina pouted. "Paolo knows me there and he'll get us the best seats! I'm sure your employee would agree."

"I'd rather gouge my eyes out," she muttered crossly, already annoyed with the slightly nasal whine in Katrina's voice that suggested that Sakura was Syaoran's mere employee, even after having reached celebrity status.

Katrina was at least polite enough to pretend not to have heard, unless she really was so absorbed in her own world, she did not notice. In the end, Sakura was thoroughly disgusted with Katrina's leech-like hold on Syaoran's arm and having lost her appetite watching Katrina's dreamy gazes toward Syaoran, declined to order anything for herself. If Syaoran had been only slightly more humane to Sakura, she would have pitied him; it was a wonder that his right arm had not atrophied from disuse with a parasite like Katrina clinging on his arm.

After lunch, the three stepped out the front glass doors of the brick restaurant, where the limo was already waiting for them. Sakura opened the door to get in first, not wanting to spend another minute looking at Katrina's parasitic behavior, but Syaoran pushed her to the side and let Katrina get in first. Fully affronted, she opened her mouth to yell at Syaoran, but he closed the door after Katrina. Confused, she lowered the window to look at the two of them, Sakura looking equally surprised at Syaoran's side.

"I'm sending you off first," Syaoran interjected before Katrina could ask. "I have some unfinished business at the office, so I'll be taking another car."

On cue, a silver Bentley rolled up behind the limo and the limo's chauffeur pulled away before Katrina could say another word. Syaoran saluted her with a wave as she stuck her head out the window, her complaints drowned out in a cloud of dust. He turned to the valet, and after tipping him generously, made a move to sit in the car, but Sakura was still gaping after the limo, her mouth slightly open.

"Flies will get in, you know," he reminded her lightly before she wheeled on him.

"Why—How could you do that?" Sakura cried incredulously.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you liked her," Syaoran said after a moment, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"No, not _that_. You had someone else take her home!" she cried, stamping her heel on the pavement indignantly. "You could have had someone take _me_ home! I could have caught a ride on the limo!"

"Surely, you're not worth her time either," Syaoran scoffed before sliding into the front seat and slamming the door shut, ending the conversation.

Growling, Sakura opened the passenger side door and jumped in, once again helpless to follow him to hell if he so chose.

**-v-V-v-**

There was no real destination that Syaoran seemed to have in mind; at least, that was what Sakura thought as he took the longer, more scenic route back to Tokyo. Syaoran's "office" turned out to be a pair of cell phones that he used through most of the drive, sometimes talking into both phones at once. Although he was using a hands-free device, Sakura watched him warily as the Bentley raced through the highway. After a few hours of her gaze drifting between him and the artistic rock walls and trees that lined the road, she was relaxed enough to forget why she was looking at him in the first place, and somewhere along the line, she had contented herself to merely watching the way the orange sun blazed its light across his face and over his dark Gucci shades. As the afternoon haze set into her, she leaned back comfortably into the plush leather seat, watching him rapidly dish out instructions to the person on the other end of the conversation, and judging from his occasional harsh swearing, it was someone who botched a major project. Even though they were further delayed as Syaoran swerved and pulled into the service road at times to fully concentrate, Sakura didn't mind as it was slowly entering her subconscious that he was much more handsome than she had initially thought, most likely biased from his rude first impression. Furthermore, he seemed genuinely knowledgeable on what made the business run, and was pulling strings left and right with the skill of a master puppeteer. She yawned softly, never having felt so indolent; her mind felt like molasses, and only bothered to shift slightly to gaze at Syaoran more comfortably.

"If you keep staring at me like that, I might be tempted to pull over and check us into a hotel," he threatened after a moment, but there was a mischievous twinkle glimmering in his eyes.

Predictably, she blushed horribly and straightened in her seat, fixating her gaze on the road once more.

"Your face disgusts me," she muttered under her breath, adjusting her skirt as she changed the topic. "I was wondering how much longer it would take to get to Tokyo."

"Tokyo?"

He sounded surprised, and she turned again toward him in alarm.

"Yeah, where else were we going?"

"Here," he said shortly as they pulled up in front of a glittering gold and white skyscraper.

As Sakura gawked at the enormous building, Syaoran stepped out of the car and passed the keys off to the valet. Blinking rapidly, she fumbled with the door and hurriedly jumped out as she ran to catch up with Syaoran, who was once again, striding ten leagues ahead of her.

"W-wait! What is this place?" Sakura panted as she walked briskly by his side.

"Hotel," he smiled nonchalantly.

"Ho… ho…" Sakura wheezed, barely able to repeat the word. "Hoooeeee!"

He was already chatting with the front desk receptionist by the time she had regained her composure and readied herself to talk him out of it.

"H-hey, you're just joking right? I mean, come on, if you were serious… I didn't mean to look at you, you know. Just take me back home, okay?" she pleaded senselessly as she tugged on his jacket sleeve.

"I leave her in your hands," he said mildly to the three uniformed women that had appeared behind her, and simultaneously gripped her arms.

"Eh? Eh? What's going on?" Sakura glanced around at them in horror before shaking her head slowly in disbelief at Syaoran. "S-surely not?"

"Hm?" Syaoran turned with minor interest as he finished signing a few papers.

"Y-you… My precious virginity… with _girls_?" Sakura stuttered weakly.

He dropped the pen and stared at her incredulously before turning away, shielding his face with his hand as he waved them off. On cue, the girls dragged Sakura away as she fought tooth and nail, pleading desperately for them to be gentle.

"Sir, are you all right?" the receptionist asked concernedly as she glanced up to the hotel's number one customer.

"What a pervert," he chuckled to himself, his palm across his lips to quiet the laughter escaping him.

**-v-V-v-**

"Hoooeee," Sakura murmured for the third time that day under her breath as she stared at her reflection in the polished steel elevator doors.

Her wide emerald eyes blinked as she turned around and peered over her shoulder to see the entirety of the sparkling pink sheath dress. It was held up by a silver halter neckline and featured two thin silver cords reaching around her neck and criss-crossing down her back. Much to her relief, the women that had dragged her unwillingly away were only hired stylists, although they seemed to be much more frightening when they requested she take off her clothes. They then whisked her off to another section of the hotel's spa and salon to add the final details, among which included an elegant upswept coif and light makeup. Her toes, painted in a glittering pink that matched her manicure, wiggled under a pair of stunning silver high heeled sandals just before she was firmly urged out of her chair and out the door. Too surprised to protest, she had meekly followed the guiding hands back to the elevator, where she suddenly found herself staring at her completed style for the first time in the elevator doors.

The elevator finally lulled to a halt and the doors slid open with a soft chime. A maitre d' in a dark tux stood unassumingly by the entrance to what seemed to be the hotel's restaurant.

"You clean up well."

Sakura turned to see Syaoran's familiar smirk emerge from the shadows as he held his hands behind his back, circling her slowly to inspect the handiwork of the stylists.

Flushing, she retorted automatically, "You don't," but it was an obvious lie.

Syaoran was also groomed and in a formal dark suit, a rare dark green tie fashionably knotted under the collar of his black shirt. He smiled in response, treating it as mere banter as he withdrew his hands from behind him, revealing a dark velvet blue box.

"But you're missing something," he continued as he opened it up with casual grace, and let her glance pause over the strand of diamonds before her eyes flicked up to him in surprise.

He smoothly slipped it around her neck, and she automatically reached up to feel the large pink cherry blossom design of the pendant resting on her collarbone as his warm fingers left her.

"Um… tha—" she began, but he was already being ushered by the rather snooty maitre d' to their reserved seats, and Sakura had to walk a little faster to catch up.

Shortly after, Sakura was salivating at the appetizing pictures in the menu. Each page seemed to be more delicious than the last, as the prices indicated.

"Wow, look at this!" she marveled. "Chicken soup, $100 a bowl. I think I could have hired the lady across the street to make me an entire Thanksgiving dinner for less."

"Ah, that is not just any kind of chicken soup, miss," the waiter smiled. "It is prepared with the finest of pearl powder sauces. Pearl is said to be an excellent natural remedy for many ailments."

"Hmm… well I don't think I'm really _ailing_ anywhere just yet," she murmured to herself as she flicked through more pages of dishes spiced with precious metals.

"Chef Special," Syaoran nodded to the waiter who quickly took down their order. "The lady doesn't have much of an appetite."

The waiter nodded and turned to leave, but Sakura grabbed hold of his sleeve, a desperate move from someone who had not had so much as a cup of water for the hangover she had been fighting all day. She forced a tight grin toward Syaoran as she released her death-grip on the surprised waiter.

"The _lady_ changed her mind," she smiled rigidly before pointing at her menu. "Get me everything on this menu from page three to five. _He's_ going to pay everything," she added darkly as she aimed a withering glare at Syaoran.

The waiter glanced at him for approval, but Syaoran merely smirked and flashed a black Visa, and it wasn't long before there were three extra tables set up around Sakura. The few patrons of the restaurant who did not look up in awe when the glamorous version of Sakura entered finally joined the others in open gawking as the slender girl proceeded to eagerly sample each of the twenty-five steaming plates around her with childlike pleasure.

"That's _my_ plate," Syaoran frowned as he deflected the fork nearing his gold-peppered steak with his knife.

"Oh, sorry," she grinned sheepishly and grabbed some basil pasta from another plate instead. "Hey, I'm not trying to be ungrateful, but was the royal treatment necessary for dinner?"

"Did you think you were being treated specially?" Syaoran raised his left eyebrow and chuckled softly.

Sakura's face flushed as she realized he was mocking her, and her temper flared up again. "Then?" she demanded defiantly.

He waved his hand dismissively around the grand restaurant, crystal-dripping chandeliers emerging from the gilded ceilings like upside-down fountains of light. "This is one of my favorite restaurants along the way to the office, but there's a dress code, and I would rather not be the center of attention with such a poorly dressed girl at my side."

"You're the one who provided the clothes!" she frowned. "And in case you haven't noticed, we're the center of attention anyway."

She was correct, of course, although it was not because she was so poorly dressed. The openly gawking stares had managed to break through her normally oblivious nature, and she retaliated by flipping off an elderly couple at the table next to hers before she speared a bit of silver flounder with her fork with almost murderous pleasure. That seemed to reduce the number of spectators greatly, although many simply resorted to sneakier, more furtive glances that continued until she had finished the last plate. Even Syaoran was slightly impressed as she smiled childishly and patted the flat of her stomach with satisfaction.

"As long as you treat me to this place for dinner, feel free to hold me hostage anytime," she grinned as they strode out of the restaurant.

"Hostage?" Syaoran laughed. "You just devoured _several_ meals that would have each been enough for a down payment on a new car, and made me pay for everything. I'd really like to see what you say if someone really did decide to kidnap you without my bank account to support you."

"Whatever," Sakura beamed, in a much better mood with Syaoran now that she was full. "So, Mr. Kidnapper, going to take me home yet?" she chirped as he opened the car door for her and she slid in.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Syaoran smiled as he got behind the wheel and turned into the main road. "I doubt even I can afford to hold you hostage much longer."

The next hour slipped by in idle happy chatter, mostly Sakura's, followed by Syaoran's dry humor.

"Jesus, it's almost midnight," Sakura swore, frowning at the digital clock in the car. "Tomoyo's going to kill me."

"You have a curfew at your age?" Syaoran chuckled as he tapped the display, switching it on to the radio so that she wouldn't be distracted by the time.

"What did you expect from the only virgin in the strip club?" she said wryly as she turned up the volume to the ending of the fast-paced song to drown out whatever smart-aleck reply Syaoran would say.

_Well boys and girls, it may be summer, but DJ Bad Santa's coming early this year for the naughty kids of the world. Radio Zoom 100.4 is proud to present you with a real treat for the devils in us all, Fallen Angels's Kiss!_

Sakura blinked at the radio for a moment as the familiar electric guitar intro began to play, followed by the heated crash of the drums.

"Hey," she said suddenly. "Hey, that's my song!"

"They tend to play those on the radio," Syaoran smiled, making another turn.

"No way… That's my song!" she cried again incredulously. "It's… It's the first time I'm hearing it on the radio."

"You won't hear it if you keep talking," he chided.

_A sweet intoxication,  
__Hardcore jubilation,  
__Pure sexhilaration,  
__An eager new sensation_

_Fantasies orgasmic,  
__Playing devil's magic,  
__Oh I need my fix.  
__Give me just one more kiss_

_Seeing summer's sizzle dripping down my thighs  
__Hearing our hungry passion in our moans and sighs  
__Tasting ecstasy as I drown in your cruel eyes_

"Oh Jesus," she breathed, humming along with it softly under her breath. She was already blushing at her own seductive lyrics. What had possessed her to conjure up such images? She glanced guiltily over to her left and sighed, knowing the answer.

_I want to live in this wicked dream  
__Hold me close and make me scream.  
__I want to die, sinning in seduction  
__Bring me to ruin, to my destruction._

_Crush me under a hard gyration  
__Drive in deep, sate my oral obsession  
__Your hot lips, a serpent's tongue,  
__Bathing me in delicious temptation  
__Burning me in a touch of damnation_

She drummed the music riff with her fingers on the dashboard, a few tears slipping down her cheeks as the melody began to play a lighter, tinkling tune.

_Is this the act of desperation?  
__Are your kisses my drug addiction?  
__Or is it only a natural reaction,  
__A simple case of captivation?_

_Mom… my song's on the radio. Can you hear it from heaven? _

She laughed to herself softly, imagining her mother's reaction to such provocative lyrics as the original heart-pumping rhythm started up again.

_A sweet intoxication,  
__Hardcore jubilation,  
__Pure sexhilaration,  
__An eager new sensation_

_Oh I need my fix.  
__Give me just one more kiss_

The car was pulling up in front of the gates to Sakura's home, but Sakura was still lost in the song, and sang the last few lines, wiping away the few crystalline drops from her cheeks.

_I need my fix (Puckered lips)  
__I need my fix (Hungry licks)  
__Give me just one more kiss_

"Give me just…" she smiled softly, but Syaoran cut her off.

He suddenly leaned over and kissed her, pressing her gently back against the seat as he tilted her face to his. The tip of her tongue traced over his automatically, as if conditioned to his mind-numbing kisses, but the passionate inferno that swept through her body as though it were being touched for the first time was a reaction to each kiss he ever gave her. The taste of his soft kiss, although being much less forceful than his other kisses, still left her breathless as he finally broke the kiss, but did not move his face away, and they shared a dreamy few moments of staring into the other's eyes.

"I—" Sakura fumbled with the door handle as she finally snapped out of her reverie. "I have to go," she finished weakly and tottered out, her front door seeming to only get further away as she ran toward it, the back of her hand pressed against her burning lips.

"Hey!" Tomoyo cried out, looking as frightening as ever in a lavender silk bathrobe as Sakura burst through the front door and dashed up the spiral staircase. "Where the hell were you all day? And what is with that dress?"

"Do you have any idea how _worried_ we were?" Meilin similarly growled, rapping her fist against Sakura's locked bedroom door. "Why didn't you at least call?"

Sakura didn't respond, all their lecturing and nagging falling on deaf ears, and hugged her pillow as she sat up in her bed. When Tomoyo and Meilin finally gave up shouting through the door and went to bed, she sighed and played with the thin silvery chain of the locket in her hands before she opened it. A faded picture of her mother smiled up at her comfortingly, but it wasn't enough to stop the lone tear that slipped down her cheek and splashed onto the silver heart's edge. Her heart was pounding from the kiss, but it still ached as she remembered the way Katrina had touched Syaoran with intimate familiarity, and she knew what that implied.

"Mom," she whispered softly, tracing her finger along the gilded design on the inside. "I'm sorry… I think I'm…"

She couldn't bring herself to continue, choking back another sob as she thought of Syaoran. She hated herself for falling for him, knowing full-well that he was a loathsome player. Whether she liked it or not, she knew she was hopelessly in love with a man whose heart she could never have.

**-v-V-v-**

**Well, we'll have to see how right Sakura thinks she is in the next few chapters. Please continue to review! They really force me out of bed to think out the next chapter, although my school starts next week, and I'll have to try to update maybe once a week, or every other week. **


	7. Reminiscence

**Wow, firstly let me say thank you all for over 100 reviews! Sinful Delights is undoubtedly my most successful fiction, and it couldn't have happened without all your support. I also want to say… spank me all you want for being a bad author and not updating way before. This chapter was actually done a long time ago, and just needed some editing, but… I was extremely lazy. **

**To answer some reviews, I remember reading Sensual Phrase, but all I remember is Sakuya (if that was the singer's name?). I got the idea of sexy lyrics from Gackt. Reading a translation of his lyrics, the translator made a note that it made her blush while she was translating. Now _that_ is sexy. It was also something I was looking for among the prize entries: lyrics that made me blush. **

**Hope my readers aren't too upset with me and still continue to review!**

**Japanese Lessons: **

**Kawaii – Cute**

**-v-V-v-**

After _Kiss_'s debut on the radio, the public response was almost immediate and alarming. A multitude of music television networks and radio stations were swamped with millions of listeners' requests, and even after several weeks, the demand was so immense, one station's top-of-the-line phone network suffered a power surge trying to accommodate all the new fans of Fallen Angels. There was no precedence for such an event, and as many celebrity critics opined, there was much doubt that there would never be anything like it again.

Despite being further centered in the limelight, the girls were able to humbly take it in stride and quickly grew used to donning a disguise whenever they went out to avoid the mobs. They remained modest and continued to live together in the house that Guilty Pleasures Inc. had provided them, rather than buy separate homes. Nevertheless, Yamazaki was forced to publicize the group, and that often entailed a deluge of appearances on various syndicated shows. One of the appearances also included an interview on _Kawaii!_, a popular television show for young adults that featured their favorite celebrities.

"Yes, I am rather fond of jelly beans," Tomoyo smiled nervously.

"_Kawaii!_" the audience cheered the catch phrase immediately, making Tomoyo jump a little in her seat, clearly uncomfortable in the plush leather couch.

"Indeed!" chirped the heavily made-up blonde hostess of the show as she shifted her legs slightly to flash a bit more of her thigh at the camera. "Rumor has it that you three were already friends when you were discovered. How did you meet?"

"We worked together at the same part-time gig," Tomoyo parroted immediately, careful to eliminate any mention of the Twilight Den, as Yamazaki had instructed them. "We were extremely fortunate to be singing together when a scout happened to drop by."

"A part-time gig? Like serving _café au lait_ in cute pink and white striped uniforms?" the hostess gushed.

"_Kawaii!_" the stands sang out to her cue, and the three could only smile tightly, remembering how Yamazaki took pains to eliminate the Twilight Den from their past life, saying that it would be damaging to their careers if it were discovered that they had worked in a topless bar, despite not having stripped themselves.

"Now, on to the meatier subjects! You are employed by one of the most eligible bachelors in the _world, _Syaoran Li. How does that feel?"

"Glad to be employed?" Sakura answered uncertainly.

"Yes, yes, but have you ever fallen for his _charms_?" she pressed.

"His _what_?" Sakura blurted out loud before she could stop herself. If it was anything Syaoran had in his narcissistic personality, it certainly wasn't charm.

"_Charm_," she enunciated, fluttering her dark lashes at the camera as it zoomed in for a close-up. "He's just so enigmatic, and the public would like to know more about him."

Sakura thought the word "enigmatic" didn't belong in the woman's vocabulary as she watched her flick back a streaming lock of blonde hair coyly, but she shook her head as Meilin thankfully answered for her.

"We choose not to mix our business and pleasure," Meilin smiled sweetly to the renewed shouts of "_Kawaii_!"

The interview wasn't over soon enough. Sakura grumbled darkly as she stomped down the stairs of the back entrance of the studio to avoid the mob of fans that had gathered at the front, her foul mood affecting Tomoyo and Meilin as well. As they had suspected, it was yet another interview that focused more on the mysterious Syaoran than their music.

"It's all the same!" Meilin spat angrily as she marched down the stairs behind Sakura. "They ask us the same things about what we eat, what we wear, what products we're endorsing, and then they just brush it all aside to get an inside look on Syaoran!"

"Can you blame them?" Tomoyo answered grimly. "We're the first group to be released by him after that announcement that he was one of the world's top bachelors, and they're just assuming we're popular because of that. We might be discarded as one-hit wonders if our second CD isn't up to par."

"The nerve!" Sakura swore vehemently as she burst through a swinging door and walked briskly down another hallway. "Asking if we ever fell in love with him!"

Tomoyo and Meilin slowed their steps as they exchanged glances.

"Sakura, you're not upset because there might be some truth to it, are you?" Tomoyo ventured finally.

"Truth to what?" Sakura paused and whirled around to face them.

"Do you like him?" Meilin demanded.

"Who?" Sakura stalled lamely, flustered as she adjusted her bag's strap over her shoulder, cursing herself in her mind as she felt the hot blush sear across her cheeks.

"Oh _hell_ no," Meilin breathed, horror-struck as she blamed herself for letting Sakura fall for the worst sort of guy.

"Sakura, he's bad news!" Tomoyo admonished. "It's common knowledge that he's a player and he sleeps with a different model every night!"

"I know," she said stoutly, although her heart was sinking faster, and she unconsciously began to play with the silver locket at her throat.

"So help me God, if I catch you with him," Meilin warned as she narrowed her eyes at her.

"I'm not going to do anything with him!" Sakura retorted as she turned on her heel and swiftly pushed past the exit doors.

"Not while I'm alive!" Meilin called out over the sudden wild cheering of fans and manic clicking of cameras.

"What the hell?" Tomoyo frowned as she raised her hands to block the blinding glare of the thousand camera flashes going off in her face.

"Back! Get back, I said!" Yamazaki roared furiously as he prodded the screaming fans away as a matador would bravely, but cautiously skirt an enraged bull. "Oy! Get in the car!" he shouted to the three as he forced a path for them through the crowd toward a shiny black SUV with darkened windows.

"The paparazzi are here!" Jin shouted as he similarly shoved people away, dark, professional-looking cameras inching ever-closer above the heads of the fans. "Split up, or they'll chase us down!"

With that, he grabbed Sakura's hand and dragged her through the crowd. Glancing helplessly over her shoulder, she saw a harassed-looking Yamazaki load Tomoyo and Meilin into the back of the SUV before speeding off. Clapping her other hand over her wide-brimmed hat on her head, she stumbled onto the black leather seat of Jin's candy apple red Mustang and he slammed the door after her. For a moment, Sakura was afraid of the hundreds of people screaming and banging on the glass windows and ducked low in her seat. Luckily, Jin was soon able to get in the car and when the engine roared to life, the people were forced to scatter as the car threatened to mow them down if they did not get out of the way. Although the paparazzi vans squealed loudly in pursuit, Jin's expert racing skills came in handy and eventually eluded them. Sakura finally remembered to breathe after escaping the claustrophobic scene, and smiled briefly in thanks.

"About the other night…" Jin began, interrupting the harrowed silence between them as he slowed down the car to a more legal speed.

"Oh!" Sakura blushed. "I'm so sorry about that."

He paused and glanced over to his right in confusion. "About what?"

"As you probably know by now, I have little tolerance for alcohol," she blurted feverishly. "I may have been incredibly out of it, but I still can remember you watching over me for the night. I'm sorry I had to ruin the party for you by forcing you to be my babysitter."

"Oh, it was really not a problem," Jin replied softly. "So you don't remember…?"

"Did I do something weird?" Sakura gazed concernedly over him. "Toward the end of the night, I only remember dancing. And somehow I just woke up with Sy—."

She broke off, flushing heatedly as she remembered the events of the day before, and cleared her throat before she continued. "I woke up without remembering anything."

"I see," he murmured softly, his hands tightening imperceptibly along the steering wheel as he made a turn down Sakura's street. He had been able to understand the rest of Sakura's slip.

There was another lull of uncomfortable silence, before Sakura smiled nervously and repeated, "Sorry."

He chuckled for a moment and a light grin played on his lips. "Instead of saying sorry so much, why don't you try a simple thank you?"

"Eh?"

"Well, it wasn't a big deal for me, and you could count on me to do that for you any time. So just say thank you. It's not something you should have to lower your head over and be ashamed of to say sorry."

Sakura tilted her chin upwards slightly in surprise and nodded slowly before testing the words on her lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he grinned.

"I officially owe you a favor, anyway," she burst out laughing. "Name anything."

"Do you, now?" Jin's smile played on his lips, with the setting sun fell over his blonde bangs and dark shades. "Dangerous words to play with."

Sakura turned with interest, shifting in her seat. "Anything _reasonable_."

"Let me take you out to dinner sometime," he said after a moment, calculating his chances of success on the most probable options.

"Eh? Let _you_ take me out to dinner so that I could thank you?

Jin shrugged before pulling up in front of the familiar wrought-iron gates of the estate. "It gets lonely eating by myself most of the time. I could use the company."

For a second, Sakura's heart panged with the remembrance of the loneliness she experienced after her mother died. She sympathized with him, having to eat dinner alone without her mother for the first time, an utterly agonizing time for her. She was lucky to have met Tomoyo and Meilin when she did, and they were lucky to have her. Sakura doubted that without her mediating, the mild-mannered Tomoyo could have tolerated the more vulgar Meilin, who always welcomed a fight back then. The three may have been brought together by fate, but they were bound by loneliness, an earnest craving to connect with others. She gazed over at Jin, and thought she caught the familiar shade of pain in his eyes just as he turned to her for her response.

"Well?" he chided, a slight half-smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, but managing to look sad all the same.

"Let me think about it," she whispered softly before stumbling out of the car and slamming it behind her before he could say another word. She took a deep breath of the crisp chilly air, and bolted for the front door, not caring what Jin thought of her as her heels slammed against the paved walkway. She was grateful that it was dark as she discreetly wiped away her silvery tears… Her body could only remember the grief of the time after her mother's death, and before finding Meilin and Tomoyo. He reminded her of that pain, and it frightened her to no end to be so close to the same misery again.

-v-V-v-

"I'm home," Sakura called out dully as she kicked off her shoes and gratefully sank her feet into her house slippers.

"Welcome back," Tomoyo shouted from the kitchen as she carefully sliced an onion before chucking it into a boiling pot on the stove.

"Something smells good," Sakura smiled slightly as she danced on her tiptoes to peek over Tomoyo's shoulder.

"Chicken soup," she grinned proudly, deftly slapping at Sakura's filching hand that reached for the bowl of washed carrots. "I thought some home-cooking would be nice after all that high class stuff we've had to eat at meetings with the rich and powerful of the industry."

Sakura felt a pang of guilt as she remembered the chicken soup with pearl powder offered at the hotel restaurant Syaoran had taken her. Attempting to shake him from her thoughts, she glanced around for another topic.

"Where's Meilin?" she asked, realizing the other friend who usually distracted Tomoyo while Sakura reached for the food was missing.

"Off on some date," Tomoyo said vaguely, dumping another load of sliced carrots into the pot and letting it steam. "I don't know who it is," she added before Sakura could ask. "She wouldn't say."

"Amazing. We have the same hectic music schedule, but she still has time to date?" Sakura grinned.

"She's not willing to change much, is she?" Tomoyo agreed fondly, remembering how Meilin always managed to meet one handsome guy after another and squirm in dates around their long shifts at the bar. "But actually," she confessed, "I have to go as soon as this soup is done. I have… a date myself."

Tomoyo was determinedly not looking at Sakura as a rare blush crossed her fair complexion, busying herself with stirring. Sakura stared at her for a long time before letting out a howl of a laugh, almost crying as Tomoyo blushed harder and slapped her away from taking more of the soup's ingredients.

"You! Of all people!" Sakura wheezed as she held her aching stomach from laughing at the idea of Tomoyo on a date after successfully rejecting so many, she had elevated it to an art form.

"He's a nice guy!" Tomoyo defended helplessly as she flung the wooden spoon at Sakura's head, narrowly missing it as she ducked.

"So who is he?" she giggled, finally managing to grab a raw veggie and bite into it as she distracted Tomoyo with the thought of her mystery date.

"I'm not telling you," she grunted sourly and refused to talk any more about the matter.

Sighing wistfully, Sakura leaned back against the counter and munched onto her celery stick as she contemplated the situation.

"It seems like everyone's finding their soulmate except me," she mused. "Rumor is that Yamazaki is dating Chiharu Mihara now from Angel's Kiss."

"Really? Wow, the manager of a hot new group dating the leader of the group's biggest rivals…" Tomoyo mused and trailed off as she glanced over at the forlorn figure of Sakura leaning over the counter. She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms as she gazed at her critically. "Don't rush into finding a guy, Sakura," she warned. "Especially not Syaoran."

"For the last time, it's just a crush!" Sakura managed to shout with exasperation convincingly, although she herself was not quite sure. "Give it a week, and I'll get over it," she sighed resignedly.

"If you say so," Tomoyo said mildly as she finished with the soup and quickly untied the frilly white apron from her black evening dress. "Now, _I_ am going to go on my date, yes that's right, I said my _date_, so you better finish all of this soup and be a good girl and go to bed early."

"Yes, mom," Sakura giggled as she opened up the rice cooker and filled her bowl with the fluffy white kernels. "Have fun!" she called out as Tomoyo dashed out the front door.

It was a rare occasion for Sakura to be eating dinner alone after living with Meilin and Tomoyo for so long, and the heartache she thought she had run away from washed over her anew, as though it had never left. Although she raised the television volume, the obnoxiously loud chatter was not enough to drown out her own thoughts, and she quite forgot to chew as she mulled over the fact that their career was riding on the success second CD, which would prove to the world that their limelight was well-deserved for their talents, not their connection to Syaoran Li. She sighed, knowing it put more pressure on her to bang out fresh lyrics that wouldn't pale in comparison to _Kiss_, and she had only begun to come to terms with herself that whether she liked it or not, she had completely fallen for Syaoran's rough edges and that his kisses were the source of her inspiration for the last debut song. Even worse, after having been deprived of seeing him over the past few weeks, all her lyrics sounded weak and forced again.

Sakura dropped her spoon as a sudden realization struck her. Perhaps she was simply caught up in the steamy kisses she shared with Syaoran, the man who also stole her first kiss. There was no reason why another could not offer the same electric kisses, and she would have the inspiration to write her lyrics without having to resort to being another girl to be forgotten in Syaoran's growing collection. Filled with resolve, she decided that the only way to save their career was to find a guy to date, and fast.

Almost instantaneously upon reaching that conclusion, the telephone rang. Snapping out of her reverie, she jumped over the couch to take the call.

"Hello?" she asked, slightly breathless as she licked a rice kernel away from her lips.

"Sakura?"

It was Jin, and it couldn't have been more serendipitous.

"Listen, I just called to say I'm sorry about… everything. I didn't mean to scare you, and I just wanted to apol—," Jin began, but Sakura interrupted him, her heart beating faster as she clutched more tightly to the receiver.

"No, it's okay. I did some thinking, and I think… I think we should go out."

**-v-V-v-**

**Dun dun dun… Sakura and Jin dating? Not if (my) Syaoran has anything to say about it. (Yes, I know. Sadly, Syaoran had no appearance in this chapter, but hopefully, the ever-sexy Jin being a semi-gentleman saves it from being total crap.) If you enjoyed this one, please leave a review! (If you hated it, leave one too)**

**On a side note, _Kawaii! _is not a real television show, but I've always fantasized about one with a featured catch-phrase like they do on the Ron Popeil infomercials (Just set it and… forget it!) . **


	8. The Confession to Myself

**glances shiftily around and sneaks around to shamefully slip in her latest chapter… after many years. Thanks to all the fans who relentlessly reviewed to keep me going. I swear, I want this story arc finished too. **

"Uh-huh," Sakura nodded again, listlessly stirring the butternut squash cream in the gold-rimmed soup bowl as Jin reminded her for the umpteenth time how exclusive the grandiose restaurant was, citing how even he had trouble getting reservations.

Sakura didn't blame him. A mere glance around the ornate dining hall made her feel as though she should have paid an additional admission fee, being surrounded by several Tiffany stained-glass windows framed in high arches and extravagant Waterford crystal chandeliers. Still, Sakura couldn't help but feel smothered under the capacious dome of the restaurant, and it wasn't only because of all the lush velvet and elegant patrons gaudily bedecked in jewels that flashed all too realistically as they ate. Jin's genuine sincerity to be a model gentleman was too baffling to Sakura to eat properly. Not only was the clean-shaven Jin violently clashing with the strong image in her mind of the scruffy playboy who often smelled faintly of rum and expensive cologne, but his table manners were impeccable. Sakura couldn't tell whether he was sincere in asking her what she wanted to order, or if it was another lead-in for a rude come-on.

"I can't breathe…" Sakura mumbled to herself, scribbling on the napkin in her lap discreetly, but failing miserably once more at kick-starting her muse, barely able to digest any more of Jin's egotistical prattle.

"Pardon?" Jin broke into her thoughts as he took another sip of his Chablis, a surprised tone in his voice after what must have been her first few words of the evening.

"Oh," Sakura blinked rapidly into reality, and reached for her glass, wanting to stall for time to think of an excuse, but her fingers tipped the stem and the chardonnay spilled over the white linen and splashed slightly on the pink satin of her sheath dress.

"Damn it!" she swore under her breath and instinctively stood up, dabbing hurriedly at the damp spot with her napkin.

Jin made a move to assist her, but she raised her hand, waving him off.

"It's fine. Please excuse me for a bit," she said dismissively as she headed toward the restrooms.

Under the yellowed glow of the lights over the bathroom sink, Sakura tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she gazed at her reflection, dimly remembering the conversation she had with Tomoyo the day before, telling him of her plans to date Jin…

_--_

_"I thought you said you liked Syaoran," Tomoyo pouted slightly in confusion._

_"I never did, and I don't!" Sakura hollered from the bathroom, spraying a mouthful of toothpaste all over the mirror in her exasperation._

_"I thought you hated Jin, even more than Meilin or I did," Tomoyo continued from her comfortable perch against the doorway, watching Sakura angrily gargle and spit hurriedly._

_"I thought you swore to never date anyone, you damn hypocritical nun," Sakura muttered through her towel as she dried her face._

_Tomoyo narrowed her eyes, scowling despite the automatic blush that came to her cheeks whenever her mystery boyfriend was mentioned. "Love is unpredictable."_

_"Yeah, well same here," Sakura grinned emphatically. It was so rare to hold a trump card over Tomoyo that she couldn't resist abusing it for as long as it was valid._

_"B-but why him?" Tomoyo prodded, desperate to keep the focus on the matter at hand. "We've known he was an asshole since he stepped foot in Twilight Den."_

_Sakura paused, genuinely calculating her reasons. "Well… you remember what it was like before we met each other, right?"_

_Tomoyo stiffened a bit, so Sakura took that to mean "yes."_

_"We were so naive, Tomoyo. We were like islands, broken off from the rest of the world. The sad part is that not only did we know it, but we didn't care to know about the rest of the world. I thought I only needed myself, but then… If you guys hadn't reached out to me…" Sakura spoke gently, not wanting to hurt Tomoyo, but her own voice was breaking. "Now… I'm just glad to have been given that chance to reconnect again, Tomoyo. And I want to give Jin that chance to reconnect."_

_After a long moment, Tomoyo nodded, hiding her face under the shade of her long bangs. "I hope you're making the right decision, Sakura…"_

_--_

"I hope I'm making the right decision too," Sakura whispered to her reflection before heading back to the table. "Sorry, did you wait long?" she smiled with renewed resolve as she saw Jin, but slowed her steps as she saw another familiar face approaching behind him.

"Fancy meeting you here," Syaoran grinned sardonically, striding briskly to their table.

"Syaoran!" Jin seemed a bit more alarmed than usual around his life-long friend and stood up immediately. "Uh, have a seat," he said awkwardly, gesturing toward Sakura's chair.

Syaoran glanced over at the half eaten dinner and shook his head. "I should have known it was you. I didn't mean to interrupt your date; I was only concerned when I received a call from the restaurant to confirm reservations under my name. Was the name Jin Zhang not enough for this place?"

Jin's blush from the alcohol deepened as Syaoran smirked, confirming his suspicions, and tilted his head with interest at Sakura's napkin, wearing the drivel she managed to scrawl.

"I do hope you're not planning on turning those lyrics in to me tomorrow," he chuckled softly, and left both parties fuming red as he turned on his heel, and coolly made his exit without another word.

**-v-V-v-**

"New outfits!" Tomoyo sang out cheerfully early the next morning, her arms laden with her latest creations for the group.

"So many?" Sakura raised an eyebrow as Tomoyo triumphantly dumped the load onto the couch and ransacked through the pile for Sakura's costumes.

"So little?" Meilin corrected, lifting a stretchy black and red band she assumed was for herself.

"Creative streak," Tomoyo grinned satisfactorily at Sakura. "Oh for Chrissakes, Meilin, it's a miniskirt!" she snapped annoyed as Meilin modeled it as an elastic headband.

"Eh?!" Meilin dropped the band in surprise and glanced at it in horror. "That's not creative, that's sexually-depraved! Tomoyo that's a bit too racy for even _me_ to wear."

"Virgin," Tomoyo sneered at Meilin, who was stunned into silence, not knowing how to deal with this new side of Tomoyo. Tomoyo then grinned at Sakura and lay across her lap the rest of the ensemble, replete with fishnet stockings, a tattered leather vest with a pink silk chemise underneath, and numerous silver accessories. "I spent all night making these, and have to get in touch with a jeweler to make this," she continued excitedly, producing a sketchbook full of more industrial looking silver jewelry.

"Tomoyo," Sakura breathed, partially in relief that Tomoyo's clothing concept had several layers that wouldn't be too skanky, but mostly in awe at all the handmade designs. "This is great!"

"Isn't it?" Tomoyo beamed. "Of course, the improved sexy rock-star image is going to have to be okayed by Syaoran, but I think we have similar tastes," she rattled on, seemingly more energized despite her all-nighter.

"Oh, I only hope I can have a song by tomorrow to do your clothes justice," Sakura nodded wistfully as she raked through the pile, marveling at each innovative design. "Where'd you get your inspiration from, Tomoyo?"

"Eh?"

Tomoyo's instantly scarlet face told Sakura and Meilin more than they needed to know, and the next few hours were spent in hysterical laughter as Tomoyo chased them down throughout the mansion, threatening to beat them into a bloody pulp for even bringing up the subject. It was finally Yamazaki's uncharacteristic chilling scream to shut up so he could catch up on a few more hours of sleep that forced a truce on both parties, leaving the three girls in a gasping pile of giggles.

"Still," Sakura breathed soberly, "Jin isn't at all the inspiration I thought I needed. All my songs are just about getting the hell away from him before I lose my breath."

"You could title it 'Dirge of a Loser'," Meilin offered helpfully. "He might back off then."

"Or stop wasting your time with him," Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "Honestly, didn't I tell you it wasn't going to work?"

"It's not because he's an asshole," Sakura grumbled defensively. "He was a perfect gentleman… but I think that's precisely what is killing my lyrics."

Meilin raised a mischievous eyebrow. "Does that mean that the precious flower of Fallen Angels is not as innocent as she seems?"

"Or is Syaoran the only sex symbol that can elicit the steamiest songs from you?" Tomoyo prodded playfully.

"Yeah, right, if that were the case, then our entire career would depend on Sakura whoring herself out for the world's most famous playboy and then get us all involved in a huge scandal," Meilin cracked up, dissolved into laughter with Tomoyo.

The giggles suddenly died as the conclusion dawned on Meilin and Tomoyo, who stared at an equally horrified Sakura, frozen in her seat.

"Oh _hell_ no," Meilin breathed, which galvanized Sakura to grab the phone and start dialing madly.

"Who are you calling now?" Tomoyo frowned. "Surely not Syaoran?"

"No way, not possible. There's no way I'm in love with Syaoran. I just need to give Jin a second chance," Sakura muttered feverishly, almost trying to reassure herself. "Hello, Jin?" she said quickly when the line connected. "What are you doing tonight?"

Tomoyo and Meilin were left with concerned looks as Sakura struggled to mend their crumbling dream.

**-v-V-v-**

Sakura sighed inwardly as she glanced over at Jin, and mentally kicked herself for attempting to hook up with Jin once more, agreeing to the Nutcracker of all things. She tapped her fingers with slight frustration on the edge of their box seat overlooking the stage, half-heartedly hiding a yawn with the back of her other hand as the sugar plum fairies pranced onstage, leading toward the end of the ballet.

"Long nights?" Jin whispered over to her.

Her eyes flashed dangerously as she thought he was referring to something lewd and whirled in her seat to look at him, but he was still unwittingly fixated on the ballet. "I heard from Syaoran that you're having difficulty writing the next song. He seemed to be worried."

Sakura's heart swelled a bit at the mention of Syaoran, a little happy that he would worry over her, until Jin continued casually, "You know, because if you spend too long making the next song, it could hurt your popularity." Her ego promptly deflated and she resigned herself to sit back in her seat, sighing softly and clapping her hands as the ballet ended, the patrons brought back to the reality of the world instead of in the world of Clara's nutcracker, with Sakura's reality being a little harsher than most as she realized what she had to do.

They were still in the car of the parking lot, when Sakura decided to confess the truth to Jin.

"I don't think it's working out," Sakura blurted out suddenly.

"Your song, you mean?" Jin asked lightly, starting up the car, but he knew what she meant.

"No, this. Us," she motioned with her hands, apologetic to spell it out for him. "I'm sorry, but to be truthful, I was never looking for love or a relationship, but I'm attempting to put my heart out there on the market for the sake of my songs. I need experiences that will make my heart skip beats or my body tremble when I see the one I'm in love with, to be with someone who can make me go through all the rainbows of emotion of being passionately in love with someone…" Sakura faltered for a moment, pausing to collect her thoughts as she tried to backtrack, to take back her words that would commit her to what she was most afraid of.

"You mean…" Jin continued for her softly, "you need experiences with Syaoran, and not me."

Sakura glanced up, the deep green of her eyes glassy as they filled with tears and dripped down her long lashes. "No…" she protested weakly, but he shook his head, aware of the connection between Sakura and Syaoran long before she was.

"I should have expected it, you know, since he claimed you his own after the party," Jin laughed dryly, glancing over at Sakura's suddenly perplexed look. "Oh, didn't you know? No, I didn't have a chance to set the record straight," he smiled cruelly, the corners of the hard line of his mouth almost frightening as Jin regressed into his hardened personality. "Yes, he said that you were his property, right after he punched me," he grinned, turning his face to show the healing cut on the corner of his lip where Syaoran had marred his handsome face.

"He… he punched you?" Sakura stammered, leaning back into her seat as Jin edged closer. "W-why?"

His smirk had been growing steadily, and now he was almost on top of her. "You know, Sakura-chan, it was extremely unfortunate that he stopped me that night after the party, but I think tonight, it will be all worth it."

"Stopped you? From what?" Sakura's heart hammered in her heart as she anticipated his answer, but didn't want to hear it.

"Why, from this…" he smiled as he stroked her hair, leaning his lips closer to hers.

"No!" Sakura cried out finally, unstuck from her mortified daze, but his hands had already wrapped around hers, preventing her from struggling as he nonchalantly shushed her against her ear, chuckling dryly as he enjoyed her thrashing futilely. Sakura squeezed her eyes shut, tears rising to the corners of her lashes, and fearing for the worst…

Suddenly, the car door swung open on her side and Jin was whisked off of her and dragged further down the parking lot. Sakura sat stunned in her car seat for a moment until Yamazaki pulled her out of the car, shouting something her reeling mind couldn't process as he ushered her down to his car parked behind them. She glanced back and saw Jin fighting with two figures in the parking lot, swinging wildly at them in the shadows as he tried to get Sakura back. The two lean and tall figures blurred with speed as they quickly dodged Jin's attacks, deflecting them smoothly with skilled ease. Jin swore loudly as he chased after them in the darker areas of the lot. Sakura shuddered, and kept walking briskly toward the brilliant headlights of Yamazaki's midnight blue BMW, finally having the sense to ask, "What? What's going on? How did you find me?"

Yamazaki pushed her into the seat and slid in the car after her, slamming the car door before the car roared away from the lot, not answering her as he called someone on his cell phone. "Hi, it's me. Yeah, I got her. I'm dropping her off to a safer location before I meet you. Ok. Bye." Sakura waited a moment as Yamazaki hung up, and drew a full breath before launching into a full tirade against her. "Do you realize how much trouble you're in? Dealing with Jin like that even after knowing full well what kind of personality he was. I swear, you try your best to manage an idol, with all the sweat, blood, and tears, and they show NO respect or gratefulness, chalking it up to their own skills that keep them afloat, and you all just think you're SO invincible and do crazier and crazier things that make us all want to pull out our hair and go—"

"Yamazaki, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Stop, please," Sakura cut in, pleading softly as her eyes threatened to well up with tears again. "Please," she whispered again, glancing down at her hands. "I know it could have turned out worse if you weren't there."

Yamazaki finally took the moment to breathe and glanced over at her, suddenly remorseful of his rant, and turned back to the road, driving at top speed through Tokyo's traffic. "Meilin and Tomoyo told Syaoran that you were trying to date Jin to get some ideas for your song, and were concerned because they still didn't trust him. Of course, Syaoran didn't trust him either, having known him for longer than your friends."

"They were right," Sakura growled softly, suddenly angry that she had been taken advantage of. "God, I was so stupid," she muttered.

"And thank God that Syaoran's instincts were right. He had assigned two bodyguards on you, and we've been tailing you on your _date_ with Jin," Yamazaki sniffed, loathsome of the word he used to describe the unfortunate event that Sakura was on. "Needless to say, Syaoran had informed me that if Jin tried anything on your dates that effective immediately, Jin would be terminated from Guilty Pleasures," he added as an afterthought, reassuring Sakura that she wouldn't have to deal with him again.

"Where are we going now?" Sakura sighed, not recognizing the area that Yamazaki was driving through.

"Syaoran asked me to specifically move you to a different location, in case Jin tries to track you down at your house. We're going to his apartment near Shibuya."

The realization that Jin could hunt her down at her house struck a chord of horror in her. Sakura made a mental note to thank Syaoran for having such foresight as Yamazaki's car streaked through the highway in a blur of midnight blue.

**-v-V-v-**

_Ding dong_

Katrina Kawashima smiled as she opened her apartment door, leaning against the post casually as she glanced over at the disheveled figure in front of her and crossed her bare arms across her chest. "Jin Zhang," she greeted with a smirk, which he returned with a small push as he moved past her into the room, heading straight for the ice tub at the bar, packing a few cubes into a handkerchief and pressing it against his new bruises.

"Five years ago, I saw you try to take on 4 brawny guys twice your size at the same time. It seems that you haven't changed a bit," she grinned at her old friend as she stepped over to his side and dropped a few ice cubes into a glass. They clinked lightly as she poured the scotch over it and handed it to him in offering. He took it with little grace, grimacing as the alcohol burned his open wounds near his lips. He refilled his glass and sank back into her black leather couch, Katrina settling at his side.

"Five years ago, you were fucking me to try to get to Syaoran," Jin smirked cruelly at her, but she barely flinched.

"So? Are you going to tell me what happened?" she smiled to navigate the topic to more interesting waters, toying with the buttons on his torn shirt, her fingers lightly tracing the drops of blood spattered on it.

"And now, I'll be willing to bet that you still don't have a handle on Syaoran," Jin continued, his harsh grin growing as her poker face collapsed, pissed because of the one thing she couldn't maintain in her life.

"What's your point?" she snapped, suddenly impatient with him.

"More like, what can I offer you to make sure Syaoran can stay with you?" he replied smoothly.

"Hah, you offered that five years ago, and fucking you still won't get me Syaoran," Katrina spat derisively.

"Now, now, that kind of attitude won't get you very far in my plan to make Syaoran completely dependent on you," Jin chuckled.

Katrina paused with her glass of scotch halfway to her lips. "What are you talking about?"

"The stakes are simple. You want Syaoran. I want his current fling, Sakura. I think we can formulate something between the two of us to make sure that we each get what we want," Jin smiled, sliding his hand across her thigh, pushing his pinky under the hem of her miniskirt. Being violent and now unwinding with some alcohol running through his veins made him more painfully aware of how much he was craving a woman's touch tonight.

Katrina grinned and leaned across his lap, gently kissing his lips. "Sounds like we can continue to negotiate this in the bedroom," she whispered against his ear as she led him to another room, remembering their past together.

"I have a feeling all you'll be saying to my plans is 'yes, yes, more, and yes'," Jin chuckled as he shut the bedroom door behind him and wrapped her in a passionate kiss.

**Dun Dun Dun… more trouble for Sakura and Syaoran looms. Hopefully will have another chapter out soon. **


End file.
